


An Appropriate Response

by Voyagirl47



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Maquis, Post-Endgame, Prison, Spies & Secret Agents
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-13
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:54:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 92,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27546403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Voyagirl47/pseuds/Voyagirl47
Summary: Upon their return to the alpha quadrant, a war-weary Starfleet tries and convicts the former Maquis of the the starship Voyager. Left with no other options, can Kathryn Janeway do the unthinkable? How far will she go to save the crew she had damned?
Relationships: Chakotay/Kathryn Janeway, Tom Paris/B'Elanna Torres
Comments: 562
Kudos: 182





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DieAstra](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DieAstra/gifts).



> I do not own the rights to Star Trek: Voyager or their characters. This is a work of fanfiction.  
> For DieAstra, who put this idea in my head in the first place.

_It is sometimes an appropriate response to reality to go insane. - Philip K. Dick_

**May 18, 2379**

“What’s our status, Tom,” she asked him, hovering over his shoulder aboard the _Flyer_. 

“As far as I can tell, no one has detected us yet, Admiral,” he replied without taking his eyes off the viewscreen. 

“Good,” she answered. “Let’s make sure we keep it that way. We’re only going to get one shot at this.” She started to head to the back of the _Flyer_ to check the transport enhancers for the tenth time and then paused. “Tom,” she said quietly. 

“Yeah,” she heard him answer over his shoulder. 

“You should probably start calling me Kathryn. After we do this, I won’t be an Admiral anymore.” 

**8 Weeks Earlier - March 23, 2379**

“All rise! The Supreme Court of the Federation is now in session. Chief Justice T’Pek, presiding. The hearing for case number 008 of the current session has now come to order.”

Kathryn stood with everyone else as the nine justices filed in. Her heart was in her throat and her stomach felt like is was doing somersaults. This was their last chance. If she failed here, then there had been no reason at all to get her crew home. They would have been better off if she had just settled them on any friendly M-class planet; hell, they would have been better off on a few unfriendly M-class planets if this decision didn’t go their way. 

As they sat back down, she looked across the table at Captain Louvois. She seemed calm and Kathryn tried to absorb that feeling through the space between them. The Captain seemed to think that they had a good case and that confidence was what she tried to focus on. She tuned back in to the proceedings and heard the Chief Justice finish summing up the decisions of the lower court. 

“It is extremely rare for this court to grant _certiorari_ to hear a case that comes from the Court of Starfleet,” he had continued. “Under anything but the most unusual of circumstances, this court would consider it an overreach of power of the highest order to interfere with a judgment passed down by a military court. However, it is the opinion of this court, that supremely unusual circumstances are present in this case. Those facts grant this court jurisdiction to hear the case of the defendants and either uphold or overrule the decision of the lower court.” The Vulcan Justice paused for a moment and surveyed the courtroom. 

“Usually, arguments before this court are presented to the bench alone and only the decision is given publicly. The nature of this case has given us cause to open the arguments to the public, as well.”

Kathryn resisted the urge to look behind her. She knew that the courtroom was packed, mainly with people from the media, but also with families and friends of the crew and with people who were on the opposing side.

“As the arguments phase is not often publicized, I will outline the rules that govern it. Each side will be given ten minutes to present their argument. Following their ten minutes, the bench then has 30 minutes for questions. After both sides have argued, each will be given five minutes for rebuttal, followed by ten minutes for questions from the bench. Each side is then given two minutes for summation. The decision will be handed down one week from today. As is tradition, the petitioner to the court will argue first. Captain Louvois, you have the floor.”

She watched the Captain rise and walk toward the podium. They had worked so hard for this. The last month of Kathryn’s life had been completely consumed by helping to prepare their arguments for this exact moment. Now that it was here, it was like the whole world was moving in slow motion. She watched Phillipa wake the PADD on the podium and then an eternity seemed pass before she started speaking. 

“Mr. Chief Justice, Your Honors, Ladies and Gentlemen, I am Captain Phillipa Louvois and I am a member of the Judge Advocate General’s Corps of Starfleet. I have been ordered to represent the defendants in case SF 54900-047 Starfleet vs Maquis Crewmen of the USS _Voyager_ , Captain Kathryn Janeway, _et al_.” A general murmur started through the gallery as the case was finally named for the first time in the hearing. A raised eyebrow from the Chief Justice brought the noise to heel quickly.

“It is the position of Starfleet Command,” the Captain continued, “that the members of the crew of the USS _Voyager_ that were absorbed from the Maquis ship _Val Jean_ upon its destruction in the delta quadrant are somehow both the alleged war criminals that they were before they came aboard _Voyager_ and full-fledged members of Starfleet. Command will argue that it is this duality of these individuals that allows the Court of Starfleet to be the only governing body that can either prosecute or pardon their actions from prior to their serving aboard a Federation starship. They are of the opinion that they can try and convict these men and women - men and women who served with distinction, men and women who risked their lives daily to uphold the values and the principles and the governing laws of Starfleet and the Federation, men and women who chose to do what was right when it would have been so simple to justify doing what was easy or expedient instead - without the benefit of outside counsel, without the benefit of a public trial, and without many of the protections of the law that are afforded to civilians in a civilian court.”

Kathryn stared down at the table in front of her and smiled to herself. She had heavily influenced the language in this introduction and even with her back to the audience, she could tell that they were already doing well. 

“It is our position that the Maquis crewmen of the USS _Voyager_ must either be one thing or the other - either conscripted civilians entitled to a civilian trial for any actions that occurred prior to conscription, or fully vested members of Starfleet, whose actions prior to their commissions have already been weighed against them and considered to be slight enough to allow them to serve.” 

This was the crux of their argument. Service in Starfleet was a serious matter. All cadets that applied to the Academy were subject to extensive background checks and anything that raised a red flag for entrance was brought up at a tribunal prior to their admission. Admission following a tribunal signaled to the world that the red flag was no longer to be considered a part of that cadet’s life. It had been weighed against them - against their other actions, past and present, against their character, against the circumstances, against the possibilities - and found to be an acceptable risk. After admission, those events could not be held against you in a Starfleet court ever. 

There had been no such tribunal for her 40 Maquis crew members, with the exception of B’Elanna, who had gone through one prior to her own admission to the Academy. But even B’Elanna’s tribunal had not included her actions as a Maquis. It was why Kathryn had little hope that this would be the argument that won over the Justices. She hadn’t held tribunals for the Maquis and, even if she had, they wouldn’t have been considered valid when they returned to the alpha quadrant. They were presenting the argument simply to illustrate what Command would have to be allowing for to consider them members of Starfleet. Instead, their hope rested in the court choosing to see her people as forcibly conscripted civilians, a practice that was still on the books at Starfleet but hadn’t actually been undertaken in 200 years. 

This had been their argument before the Court of Starfleet, as well. Kathryn had argued fiercely in her testimony that she hadn’t needed to draft orders of conscription for the Maquis to understand what was happening. They knew that their options were serve well or be left behind in the delta quadrant. But she was still kicking herself for not doing it. The idea had occurred to her at the beginning, but she was trying to win over the Maquis, trying to blend the crews into one, and she felt that handing out conscription notices would have seriously jeopardized the fragile peace that she and Chakotay had managed to cultivate in those early days. 

Kathryn tuned back in to hear Phillipa winding up. Their argument ran exactly 9 minutes 50 seconds if the Captain did everything right. She glanced down to the PADD on the table in front of her and discovered that it is flashing 9 minutes 25 seconds. Five seconds slow, but still right on track.

“Perhaps their captain sums up our argument the best. I quote from now Admiral Kathryn Janeway’s _Amicus_ brief for the court: ‘The former Maquis cannot be both Starfleet and civilians. Just as a moon cannot also be a star and a captain cannot also be an ensign, the Maquis must be one thing or another. Either they are Starfleet, as we treated them on _Voyager_ , and their actions from before they joined us must be forgiven, or they are civilians and Starfleet has no place deciding their fates.’ Thank you.” 

The gallery started to applaud as she finished and Kathryn even heard a loud whistle from the back before they could be brought under control again. _That’ll be Tom_ , she thought to herself with a grin. Kathryn glanced at Phillipa’s profile and could see that she was smiling too. 

“Thank you, Captain Louvois. Are you prepared to respond to the questions of the court,” the Chief Justice asked loudly, bringing silence to the room again. 

“I am so prepared,” she answered formally. 

“The first question is from Justice Abbott.”

“Captain Louvois, do you deny that the Maquis are guilty of war crimes, specifically terrorism, due to their actions on the Cardassian border?” 

“We do not deny them, nor do we admit them, Your Honor. The Maquis have not been tried in any court but the Court of Starfleet. The evidence has not been heard and they have not be charged in any court that has the jurisdiction to judge the issue.” 

“But they were terrorists?”

“Respectfully, Your Honor, one man’s terrorist is another man’s freedom fighter. The winners decide the outcome and I can’t say that anyone won in the conflict with Cardassia. And to formally answer your question again, they have not been convicted or even tried by a jury of their peers. I believe that the Federation still assumes innocence until proven guilty.” Kathryn watched the Justice sit back in his seat but couldn’t tell if he looked satisfied or angry at Phillipa’s answers. 

They continued for the full half hour, each Justice asking questions, pushing and prodding their arguments into so many different shapes that it was hard to remember what they looked like in the first place. It unsettled Kathryn that she wasn’t sure if they were winning or losing when Phillipa finally sat back down beside her. 

“We will now hear the opposition’s argument. Admiral, you have the floor.” 

Rear Admiral Raymond Bennett stood and walked to the podium. The contrast between he and Phillipa was striking. Where Phillipa was lithe and compact, emanating strength and determination in spite of her size and femininity, Bennett was a practical colossus. His broad shoulders and large hands dwarfed the podium and where Phillipa exuded a quiet strength, Bennett could only be described as loudly powerful. 

“Good morning,” Bennett began in a rich baritone. “My Chief Justice, Your Honors, Ladies and Gentlemen, I am Rear Admiral Raymond Bennett. I am the Attorney General of Starfleet and I am before you today to present Starfleet’s case in this matter. Our argument is simple. The opposition is trying to convince you that the Maquis of _Voyager_ are nothing more than conscripted civilians, and thus are not subject to the jurisdiction of the Court of Starfleet for their actions prior to being marooned in the delta quadrant. They further assert that if the Maquis were members of Starfleet that they cannot be held accountable by Command for their crimes before they were absorbed into the _Voyager_ crew due to the law of the tribunal that we observe. We argue that this premise is fundamentally flawed.” Kathryn felt a chill run up her spine. 

“It is true,” Bennett continues, “that under typical circumstances, tribunals would have absolved a member of Starfleet of issues in their past that arose before their enlistment. But the circumstances on _Voyager_ were far from typical. We present to the court that the Maquis are fully fledged members of Starfleet, and have been since Kathryn Janeway made the decision to merge the crews and appoint their captain as her first officer, and that since tribunals could not be held prior to their enlistment, that Starfleet is well within its rights to determine suitable punishments for actions undertaken by its members.”

Kathryn could feel that her mouth was slightly open in shock and quickly clamped it shut. This was a complete change from the prosecution’s argument before the Court of Starfleet. When they had begun this process several months ago, Starfleet had refused to acknowledge that the Maquis were anything but criminals. Bennett himself had called them “opportunistic hitchhikers, at best; murders masquerading as model citizens, at worst” during Chakotay’s hearing. He had dismissed all the good work that her Maquis crew members had done and made it sound like they had made the efforts that they had made simply because there had been no other choice. Kathryn hadn’t even known that she could get as mad as she had when those words had left his mouth. And now that they were here before the Supreme Court, Starfleet had decided to change its tune. _They knew that they would lose_ , she realized in a flash. 

She glanced at Phillipa and saw her shock reflected back at her. They hadn’t prepared for this argument. There had been no inclination that Starfleet was leaning this direction, and they had dismissed the idea of arguing that the Maquis were Starfleet because there simply wasn’t enough precedent to support it. They would be calling on the Court to create new law with their ruling. Apparently, Starfleet had decided that it was worth the risk. She only realized that Bennett had stopped speaking when the dry tone of the Chief Justice snapped her back to the present. 

“Thank you, Admiral Bennett. Are you prepared to respond to the questions of the court?”

“I am so prepared,” Bennett answered. 

“Admiral, what you are essentially asking of the court today is to create new law, is it not,” one of the Justices on the side furthest from Kathryn asked, not waiting for the Chief Justice to introduce him like he had for Captain Louvois. 

“What we are asking of the court, your honor, is to affirm the sovereignty of Starfleet in dealing with matters that concern its own.” 

“I disagree, Admiral. What you are asking the court today is to redefine what it means to be an enlisted person in Starfleet. These people did not attend the Academy. They took no oath of enlistment. In fact, in the transcripts from the original trials before the Court of Starfleet, you specifically refused to acknowledge them as Starfleet officers for those precise reasons. So my follow-up question is two fold: why the sudden reversal on your opinion of the Maquis and how do you expect us to call them Starfleet officers when they have done nothing that is required to become one?”

“Your Honor, I will answer your second question first, because I believe that it will make the answer to the first part clear, as well. You ask how we can consider the Maquis to be members of Starfleet? Starfleet argues that the former Maquis are ours in the same way that an officer can be commissioned or promoted in the field. None of the usual avenues are followed in those instances, yet a field commission is honored by command almost every time upon the resolution of the crisis. We argue that when Admiral Janeway merged the crews together, she was essentially field commissioning all 40 members of the Maquis. They were assigned ranks and wore insignia that reflected them, they dressed in Starfleet uniforms, introduced themselves as Starfleet officers and enlisted men, and served on a Starfleet starship under a Starfleet captain. All the evidence suggests that they considered themselves to be commissioned members of Starfleet. We are simply choosing to retroactively honor those field commissions.”

Kathryn realized suddenly that she hadn’t been breathing. Field commissions. _That’s how they are going to beat us_ , she thought, quietly drawing in air like she was breathing through a straw. Any field commission was subject to command review. The review would open up all of her crew’s past actions since no tribunal had ever set them aside. Starfleet had found a way. They had found a way to ensure that her actions were the ones that damned her crew. 

“But aren’t field commissions for people who are already members of Starfleet,” another Justice interjected. “It’s a promotion, not a way to enlist.”

“Usually that is correct, Your Honor,” Bennett returned. “But using that process to enlist civilians - which is different from conscription - is rare but not totally unprecedented. It has been done several times in the field of battle, including recently during the Dominion War when Captain Williams field commissioned 23 civilians on Varo who were already engaged in battle with the Cardassians. All of those people are either still serving in Starfleet or were honorably discharged following the end of the war.”

“Were those people tried for their actions prior to their commissioning in the field, Admiral,” Justice Abbott asked. 

“There was nothing to try, Your Honor,” Bennett replied, a small smile forming on his face. “The people of Varo hadn’t been terrorists and war criminals prior to their commissioning.” 

The gallery erupted as the family members of the former Maquis flew to their feet, yelling indignantly while the Chief Justice had to resort to using his gavel to bring the proceeding back to some semblance of order. 

“Ladies and gentlemen, I will have order in this courtroom or I will have the gallery vacated,” the Chief Justice stated calmly. When silence finally reigned again, he gave the motion to continue, but Kathryn heard nothing else. A persistent low buzzing had started in her head and was drowning out everything around her. She already knew the outcome. They were going to lose. 

A week later, she had been proven correct. The Supreme Court had ruled 5-4 against them. The rulings of the Court of Starfleet would stand and the former Maquis would all be sent to the penal colony in New Zealand for anywhere between 1 and 17 years. Chakotay and B’Elanna had each been given the steepest sentences - 25 years, minus the 7 that they had been in the delta quadrant and the last year that they had been in detention while the court cases had played out. B’Elanna would miss Miral’s entire childhood. Chakotay would be almost 70 when he was released. 

Kathryn sat in her dark apartment with her head in her hands. Empty mugs were strewn all over the living room, drops of coffee drying in them and marking the number of days since she had done anything except sit in this room, drink coffee, and sleep. She had done this to them. It was all her fault. 

She was wallowing in her own guilt and self-loathing when she heard the chime to her door. Ignoring it, she downed the last of her coffee and crossed to the replicator for a refill. The chime sounded again. Apparently the visitor couldn’t take a hint. _They’ll give up eventually_ , she thought to herself as she crossed back to the sofa with her new cup of coffee. It sounded a third time and then the knocking started. 

“Admiral, open up,” she heard through the door. “Come on, Admiral, I know you’re in there.” 

_Tom_ , she registered dully. Tom Paris was knocking on her door. 

“Kathryn,” she heard him yell, “You open this door up or I will knock it down.” His use of her first name snapped her to attention. She stood up quickly and stormed over to the door, jamming the open button with far more force than necessary. 

“What the hell, Tom,” she growled at him lowly. “I don’t want to see you. Go away.”

“With all due respect, Admiral, no.” He pushed past her into her apartment and whirled around to face her. “We have to do something, Admiral.” 

She could see the look of desperation on his face now and it was almost enough to draw her out of this numbness that she had been living in for the previous three weeks. She hadn’t been able to feel anything at all since the day of the Supreme Court hearing. The day when she had realized that she couldn’t save any of them. Not Chell. Not Ayala. Not B’Elanna. Not Chakotay. As much as she cared about all of them, B’Elanna and Chakotay hurt the worst. They were her closest friends next to Tuvok. She and Chakotay had even almost been more than friends. But he had given up on waiting for her to be ready and moved on with Seven and so she had lost him twice now. The intense hurt started to bubble up over the numbness but she quickly shoved it back down into the corner of her mind where she trapped all her feelings about Chakotay. 

“We can’t do anything, Tom,” she said to him quietly. “We did everything that we could and we lost. There is nothing left to do.” She reflected on the choice made by her future self. She had been convinced that she was doing them a favor. Helping them get home sooner - saving lives that would have been lost if the timeline had been unaltered. Instead, she had damned a third of the crew. She wondered what the Admiral would say if she could tell her what happened after they got home. 

“There’s always something,” he said desperately. “I can’t - I won’t leave her there to rot! She deserves to be with us. She deserves to be able to raise Miral. The Maquis turned out to be right, for god’s sake!” 

“I know, Tom. I love her too. I love all of them. The fact that Starfleet is doing this to them makes me sick to my stomach. But we have no other options.”

Tom had been looking at the floor the whole time she had been talking but looked up at her as she finished. “How far would you be willing to go,” he asked, something unreadable in his face that Kathryn couldn’t put her finger on. 

“What do you mean,” she answered. 

“If there was something that we could do, something that was, say illegal, would you be willing to do it, if we could get them out of there?” 

“What the hell are you talking about, Tom?”

“This,” he said as he pulled an isolinear chip out of his pocket. It refracted the light from the streetlamp outside, casting a yellow glow on the floor. 

“Am I supposed to know what that is,” she asked flatly. 

“B’Elanna told me about it just before they rounded us up for debriefing. _You_ gave it to her.”

“I did no such thing,” she answered, more confused now than when they had started talking.

“Well, you didn’t. The Admiral did. She told B’Elanna that if her plan worked, we would be in uncharted territory. She said we needed a contingency plan. At the time, B’Elanna said she thought that it was a map or logs - that the ‘uncharted territory’ was an area of the delta quadrant that we hadn’t been to yet, and the contingency was for if we exited the trans warp conduit too early. She all but forgot about it when we came out at home. But when we figured out what Starfleet was planning for the Maquis, she remembered.”

“So what is it,” she asked, curious in spite of everything else.

“It’s modifications. Shields, a cloak, enhanced transporter buffers, improved warp drive, all for the _Flyer_. It’s a way to make the _Flyer_ a getaway car.” He smiled at her and she remembered suddenly that he was a rogue once.

“A getaway car for what? Are we supposed to pull a bank job?”

“Not a bank job. A prison break.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry that this chapter is real heavy in legalese, but it's the only one that will be, so hang in with me :)


	2. Chapter 2

_No great mind has ever existed without a touch of madness. - Aristotle_

**May 18, 2379**

“Let’s run it again.”

“Admiral, we’ve run it ten thousand times.”

“Tom, I told you not to call me Admiral. And I want to run it again.”

Tom sighed in defeat. Seven years on _Voyager_ had taught him that the tone she had just used was one that you didn’t disobey. “14:05 - I transport you down to the agreed coordinates on the surface,” he started flatly. 

“14:05:05 - I materialize on the surface where B’Elanna will have gathered all the Maquis who have decided to come with us.” She paused for a second. “What’s the count up to now?”

“Twelve, including B’Elanna,” he replied, before picking the timeline back up. “14:06 to 14:07 - You and B’Elanna plant the transport enhancers so that we can actually get everyone off the surface.”

“14:07 - You transport all of us back to the _Flyer_.”

“You’re sure that the enhancers can handle 13 patterns at the same time,” he asked nervously. “Beaming through a shield is hard enough, you know.”

“Yes, I’m sure,” she said reassuringly. “The Admiral’s blueprints were incredibly detailed. I’m fairly certain we could get all 40 of them out at the same time if they had all wanted to come.”

“Okay.” He nodded soberly and then picked back up where they had left off. “14:08 - I fly us out of here and go to maximum warp as soon as possible.” 

“And then, at 16:00 tomorrow - ” she prompted.

“We rendezvous with Harry, Miral, the Doctor, and the rust bucket on Epsilon IV.”

“Okay,” she said, blowing out a breath. “We’re as ready as we are going to be. And don’t call the ship a rust bucket.”

“Well, it is,” he mumbled under his breath. She slapped him lightly on the shoulder. Slightly louder he asked, “do you have a name for it yet? Maybe then I wouldn’t be so tempted to say unkind things about that death trap.” 

“I was thinking the _Guy Fawkes_. It seemed appropriate,” she returned with a grin. It faded quickly as she returned her focus to what they were about to do. “Computer, what is the current time?”

“14:01.” 

“Okay,” Kathryn said, clapping her hands together. “Let’s run it again.”

**5 Weeks Earlier - April 12, 2379  
**

“A prison break,” she asked incredulously. “From the colony on New Zealand? Tom, are you insane? Or drunk? Or insane and drunk?”

“I’m definitely not drunk,” he replied. 

“Insane then,” she repeated.

“Jury’s still out,” Tom quipped. “Admiral, I’ve looked at the specs on here. I think this is doable. Starfleet doesn’t have any of this stuff. It’s all different from what the other you gave us for _Voyager_. They won’t know what hit them and with the warp drive modifications in here, they wouldn’t be able to catch us even if they did detect us. We could get them out of there.”

“And then what, Tom,” she asked quietly. “We never drop out of warp and keep 40 some odd people on the _Flyer_ forever?”

“Of course not! We would have another ship waiting.”

“Another ship,” she replied disbelievingly. “So now we not only have to steal the _Flyer_ , modify it with technology from the future, and use it to break our friends out of a Starfleet prison, but we somehow have to commandeer _another_ ship?”

“I mean, when you put it that way, then of course it sounds impossible.”

“It sounds impossible because it is impossible, Tom.” She raised her hand to silence him as he started to try and interrupt her. “I know that you miss B’Elanna. And I know that it isn’t fair that Starfleet did this to them. I hate that they did. I hate that Miral won’t really know her mother. Or her Uncle Chakotay. I hate that Mike Ayala’s boys lost him for seven years and then thought that they had him back only to lose him again. I hate that Gerron isn’t going to get to go home to a free Bajor for 3 more years. I hate it all, Tom. But breaking them out of the penal colony isn’t the answer.” She watched the fight go out of him as his shoulders sagged and he hung his head. 

“I just hate feeling helpless,” he almost whispered. 

“I know,” she whispered back, as she crossed the space between them. “I do too.” She wrapped him into a hug and he started to cry, head resting on her shoulder like he was a four year old being comforted by his mother. She rubbed his back as deep wracking sobs came out of his chest. She realized that it was easy to forget that people who laughed so easily and loved so readily also felt pain so deeply. When he was finally finished, he pulled himself away from her, almost in embarrassment. 

“Sorry, Admiral,” he said, wiping his face on the back of his sleeve.

“It’s okay, Tom. This situation is worse than anything I’ve ever experienced. I’ve cried like that several times over the last few weeks.” It was a bald-faced lie. She hadn’t cried at all recently. Hadn’t been able to cry. All that she had felt was this crushing and overwhelming numbness.They stood in her living room in awkward silence for a few seconds. 

“I should probably get going,” he started abruptly. “My parents are watching Miral for me.”

“Yeah,” she returned. “Kiss her for me.” She walked him to the door and was sad to see the absolute brokenness still in his eyes. 

“Here,” he said, handing her the isolinear chip. “You better keep this. Just in case I ever get the prison break urge again,” he explained as she had looked at him quizzically. 

“Right,” she nodded, taking the chip from him and sliding it into the pocket of her sweater. “Good night, Tom.” 

“Good night, Admiral.” She watched him walk down the hall and get into the elevator before she closed her own door. 

She wandered slowly back into the living room and eyed her untouched coffee. She picked the mug up from the table and downed it in a single breath before she started pacing around her sofa. She did hate feeling this way. And Tom had struck the nail on the head when he had named this emotion she had been struggling with since the hearing. Helplessness. That was what had crippled her for the last three weeks. She shoved her hands into the pockets of her sweater and her fingers brushed the chip he had left with her. Slowly, she drew the chip back out and looked down at it. She turned it in her hands a few times, watching it catch the ambient light filtering in through her windows. _It couldn’t hurt to just see what’s on it_ , she thought to herself. 

Kathryn strode into her office and woke the console on the desk. _I’ll just look at the information_ , she bargained with herself. _I’m not actually going to use any of it._ She plugged the chip in and scrolled through the menu that appeared. Tom hadn’t been exaggerating. The Admiral seemed to have thought of everything you would need for a prison break. There were plans for the modifications to the _Flyer_ , plans detailing paired transport enhancers that could beam people through level 10 shields, even schematics and surgical instructions for the interface chip that her future self had implanted in her brain that enabled her to interface directly with computer technology. Kathryn was shocked to discover that the chip also apparently acted as a comm system and enabled the user to simply think about transmitting and then speak aloud and be heard by the receiver. She didn’t sleep at all that night. 

The next day, Kathryn sat in her office at Starfleet Command trying desperately to focus on work but failing miserably. She kept thinking about Tom’s idea and the schematics that she had poured over the night before. The real sticking point was what to do after the rescue. She had started calling it a rescue in her head at around three am. If she told herself that it was a rescue - definitely not a prison break - her brain didn’t balk quite so hard at the idea. The Admiral’s chip contained nothing that would imply that she had thought that far ahead. 

_What do you do with 40 wanted criminals once you get them out of prison_ , she thought, using that prison-word again in spite of herself. Tom was right when he said that it would be easier if they had another ship. A bigger ship, one that people could live on. She sighed into her hands and decided that she needed a change of scenery. 

She started wandering the halls aimlessly, needing to move around. Her brain always worked better when she was active. She eventually found herself walking briskly down the six flights of stairs to the ground floor. Kathryn stepped out into the slight chill breeze common to San Fransisco in April. The cool air felt good on her face after the stuffiness of her office and she started doing laps around the building. On her third circuit, her stomach growled loudly and, when she literally couldn’t remember the last time that she had taken in anything other than black coffee, she decided to head for the mess hall. 

She got in line behind two men whose lab coats showed that they were from research and development and pushed herself onto her toes to try and see what was available for fruit. It was at that exact moment that she heard the man in front of her say, “you heard about the Antarian Ambassador’s son, didn’t you?” Never one to ignore good gossip when it was dropped right in her lap, Kathryn relaxed down onto her heels and started to listen unobtrusively. 

“Yes, it’s everywhere,” the man’s companion whispered back. “They say that Starfleet ended up having to intervene because he and his buddies actually managed to break orbit in that thing!”

“That’s what I heard too,” the first man replied. “I heard that the Governor’s daughter was with him!” 

“No!”

“Yes.” He nodded seriously as his friend stared at him with wide eyes. “From what I understand, they were discovered in a very compromising state when Starfleet finally managed to board his sorry excuse for a ship.”

“Where did he even get that thing,” his friend asked. 

“A decommissioned battleship? Anybody can get one. The Klingons sell those things on the black market for two strips of latinum and a bottle of blood wine.” 

The line had started moving but Kathryn stood stock still. It was like she had been struck by lightning. _A decommissioned ship_. She turned abruptly on her heel and practically ran back to her office. 

Late that night, she arrived at Tom’s apartment. Not wanting to wake Miral, she knocked on the door rather than ringing the chime.

“Who is it,” she heard him say through the door. 

“It’s me,” she returned ungrammatically. “We need to talk.”

The door slid open and she slipped inside quickly. 

“What’s going on, Admiral,” Tom said with confusion on his face. 

“I looked at the chip.” 

“What?”

“I stayed up all night and I read through everything on the chip.” 

“And,” he asked, hopefulness creeping into his voice. 

“It’s all very impressive. I agree that it might even work. But the problem remains what you do with all of them after you get them out.”

“Yeah,” he returned, his head falling. “Like I said before, we would need a ship. Or an underground lair.”

“Tom,” she said. He looked back up at her and she felt a grin spreading across her face. “I know where we can get a ship.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter is so short! It was just such a great ending line :)


	3. Chapter 3

_The people who are crazy enough to think they can change the world are the ones who do. - Rob Siltanen_  


**May 18, 2379**

“It’s time,” Kathryn said. 

“Last chance to chicken out,” he offered. 

“We’ve come too far to not see this through now, Tom.” 

“Okay. You’ve got your half of the transport enhancers?”

“Check,” she replied, patting the bag against her hip. 

“Phaser?”

“Check.” They had gone back and forth about the phaser for days. She had been totally against bringing it down there. The Admiral had provided them with modifications that would make it invisible to the weapons sensors, but Kathryn felt that coming down armed would only potentially escalate the situation if she ran into a guard. Eventually, she had agreed to take it down just so that Harry and Tom would stop griping about it. She fully intended to shove it into the bag with the transport enhancers as soon as she materialized. 

“You have the coordinates that B’Elanna sent us,” she asked again. 

“Already programed.” He looked into her eyes. “Thank you, Kathryn.”

“Thank me when it’s over,” she replied with a half smile. 

“Good luck.” Tom turned and headed back to the main cabin. A few seconds later, she heard his voice in her head. “It’s time. Are you ready?”

“Do it,” she replied, knowing that he would hear her in his head, just the same. The Doctor had implanted the comm chips in their brains a week ago and they seemed to be working well. She took in a deep breath and then felt herself dematerialize. 

**3 Weeks Earlier - April 28, 2379  
**

It had been alarmingly simple to put their plan in motion. _If it’s this easy, it’s a wonder that there isn’t more crime,_ she thought to herself on more than one occasion. Starfleet had happily accepted her offer to help with the analysis of the modifications that her future self had made to _Voyager_. If anything, Command had seemed relieved to have something for her to do. She knew that her behavior in the last year had made a lot of the Admiralty nervous and that her practical disappearance during the three weeks after the final ruling by the Supreme Court had only further escalated those anxieties. She had sensed palpable relief in Admiral Hayes when she had suggested the reassignment and had taken advantage of that feeling to suggest that Tom Paris also be reassigned. He had agreed wholeheartedly and the next Sunday had found her and Tom on the transport to Mars. 

They had given it a week before she suggested to the team leader that she and Tom be allowed to start testing some of _Voyager_ ’s new tech on the _Delta Flyer_. Lieutenant Commander Ang had taken slightly more convincing than Admiral Hayes, but had finally agreed. The two of them had already combed through the schematics for everything that the team had reverse engineered from _Voyager_ and compared them to the schematics on the Admiral’s chip. Any component that the systems had in common could be replicated at Utopia Planitia where _Voyager_ was in dry dock. They would have to replicate the other parts elsewhere and smuggle them in. 

When they returned to Earth on their first weekend after reassignment, they had really started getting their plan in place. _Voyager_ ’s sudden return home and her new found celebrity had brought old “friends” out of the woodwork in droves. One such “friend” had gone into real estate after high school and was only too willing to let her lease a large warehouse from him under the table with no questions asked. She had told him that she was organizing an illegal fight club with some other Starfleet officers. He had asked her for nothing other than an invitation to their first event. She hadn’t really cared about the facility, but its replicators would be invaluable. It also gave her and Tom a private place to plan the rescue mission. 

Tom had been working hard on his side of the plan as well. B’Elanna had had trouble sleeping while she was pregnant and so the two of them had started looking for things to do to pass the time while she was tossing and turning. They had eventually settled on learning old codes. It was scientific enough for B’Elanna and adventurous enough for Tom and so they had started with Morse. They had actually gotten pretty good before Miral was born. Hoping that B’Elanna would still remember, Tom had embedded a message in Morse through tones that would just seem like background noise in his last scheduled communication with her. 

_Rescue planned. Spread the word._

It was the longest message he dared. 67 long and short tones that he hoped were obvious to B’Elanna and innocuous to Starfleet. He had enough time to repeat it twice. It would be enough, he was sure of it.

B’Elanna’s reply had validated his faith. She had returned his message by tapping her finger lightly against the table that she sat behind. Tap, pause, tap, pause, tap, pause, tap, tap.

 _8._  
 _Where? When_ , had followed. 

Kathryn had felt a ridiculous grin spread across her face as Tom had whooped and yelled, “that’s the woman I married!”

“What do you think the eight means,” she asked when he had finally calmed down. 

Tom thought for a minute and then snapped his fingers. “I bet it’s the number of them that are interested. I told her to spread the word.”

“Only 8,” Kathryn asked, suddenly unsure. “I would have thought it would be more.”

“Well, it’s only been a few days. Maybe those are the only people she’s had a chance to float the idea to.”

“Yeah,” she replied, her concern written on her face. 

“Admiral, what’s wrong?”

“Are we doing the right thing, Tom? I mean, if even the people we are trying to help don’t want our help?”

“I don’t know about the others. But B’Elanna clearly wants our help. Is that not enough?”

She shook her head to clear it. “Of course it is, Tom.” She hoped that they were right. 

A week later, Kathryn was in the warehouse putting the final touches on the directions for the replicator to make the recycling system for the improved warp drive when she heard the door open behind her. 

“Tom, come take a look at this and see if it looks ready for a trial run,” she threw over her shoulder without turning around. 

“Well, I’m not Tom but I can still take a look if you like.”

She whipped around as the familiar voice registered. 

“Christ, Harry! You almost gave me a heart attack.” She saw that Tom trailed a few feet behind the now Lieutenant Kim. She threw up an eyebrow in Tom’s direction but before she could say anything, he held both hands in front of him.

“He guessed, Admiral. And he wants to help.”

“He guessed that we were planning to break your wife and seven other people out of a Federation penal colony?”

“Okay, so he didn’t guess exactly that, but he suspected.”

“Heavily suspected,” Harry chimed in. 

She pressed her fingers to her forehead and ran them over her left eyebrow. She could feel a migraine starting. “Tom -“ she started. _This is why he never made it as a Maquis._

“We are going to need more allies, Admiral. And who better to help than Harry?”

“I need to help, Admiral. Please let me help you do this.” 

She looked into the eyes of both men and suddenly it was like being back on _Voyager_ and they were the lost boys she remembered and not the broken men in front of her and it was almost too much. 

“Please, Admiral,” Harry repeated quietly. 

She pressed her hands into her eyes in an attempt to rid herself of the past and then looked in to Harry’s earnest face. 

“Of course you can help, Harry. Welcome to Operation Maquis Freedom,” she said with a smile. 

Harry’s help had proved invaluable. He provided an infusion of fresh enthusiasm and had poured over the Admiral’s isolinear chip with a fine tooth comb, looking for anything that could be useful to their plan that they might have missed. Having an extra pair of hands to help program the replicators and test components was huge, as well. But most important, Harry was stationed on Earth. While Kathryn and Tom were on Mars during the week, Harry used his downtime to continue working at the warehouse. Instead of having to cram all the work they couldn’t do in a Federation facility into two days, having Harry on Earth meant that someone could be working everyday of the week. 

By the end of their third week at Utopia Planitia, the team had made significant progress. The warp drive modifications were all but finished and the shields were close as well. Harry had already started prototyping the new transporter components and Kathryn believed that they would be able to start replicating the cloaking technology soon. 

“The real trouble is that we still don’t have a ship,” Harry said. He was sitting at a table in the warehouse inspecting the new components that he had just replicated. “And Tom said that B’Elanna increased the number of interested again in her communication this morning.”

“How many are we up to now,” Kathryn asked, looking up from the PADD in her hands. 

“Tom says 11, including B’Elanna.” 

“15 of us, after we add Miral. We are going to need something that is pretty decent in size.” She frowned down at the PADD as she continued scrolling. She had been quietly scouring the black market for 3 weeks and hadn’t found anything that she would even consider buying. Most of the ships she had found were either small pleasure craft or massive decommissioned war ships, meant to be crewed by hundreds. They needed something in between. Something big enough to house 15 to 20 people long term but small enough to be crewed by only that many and to fly under the radar. 

Suddenly she froze. She read the ship specifications and then read them a second time. Then she read them again. A smile began to spread across her face and she looked up across the table at Harry. 

“I found it,” she said triumphantly. She slid the PADD across the table for him to look. 

“A decommissioned B’rel class Bird-of-Prey,” he asked incredulously. “Didn’t the Empire stop using them because you can lower their shields by shooting an ionic pulse at the plasma coils?” 

“Yeah, they were absolute death traps,” she replied. “But, we are going to be replacing the plasma coils. In fact, we are going to completely refit the cloak, shield, warp drive - practically any system that matters - so that little weakness won’t be a problem. What matters is that this has crew quarters for 12. If we have people double up, we could easily take half of our people if they want to come!” 

Harry looked back up at her with uncertainty. “I don’t know, Admiral. It’s a 60 year old Klingon ship. What makes you so sure that this is it?”

“Look at its name.”

“The _Tlhab_?”

“ _Tlhab_ is the Klingon word for freedom.” Harry’s eyes widened as the symbolism settled on him. 

“This is our ship, isn’t it,” he asked quietly. 

“This is our ship.” They stared across the table at each other for a moment before Tom burst in the door. 

“I’ve got transporter coordinates,” he yelled as he crossed over to them. 

“The Admiral found our ship,” Harry returned. 

“Really?” Tom picked the PADD up and scrolled through the specifications. He frowned and then looked up at Kathryn. “This thing? The B’rel class are death traps!”

“I’m well aware of their deficiencies, Mr. Paris,” she said coldly. “But, as I was just explaining to Mr. Kim, we are going to be replacing or modifying most of the primary systems. The important part is that it is large enough to house all of us and small enough to be crewed by only a handful of people at a time. It already has a cloaking system and so we won’t have to work from scratch and it will allow it to stay hidden on a planet somewhere while we do all the modifications after the rescue. It’s perfect.” 

Tom blew out his cheeks and then worried his lips with his teeth. “I’m just not sure how compatible these systems will be, Admiral.”

“We will make it work, Tom. If we have to, we can build the systems completely from scratch with the replicators on the _Flyer_. And don't forget that we will have the best engineer in the galaxy working on it.” 

“Okay,” he responded finally after perusing the specifications one last time. “Only one problem.”

“What,” she asked, glancing at the PADD in his hands and reading the listing upside down. 

“We can’t just approach some Klingons and buy a decommissioned Bird of Prey. I mean what’s our strategy? ‘Hi, I’m Kathryn Janeway, former captain of the starship _Voyager_ , daughter of Admiral Janeway and darling of the Federation, could I purchase this 60 year old death trap from you and have you keep it a secret, please.’”

“I already have a plan, actually,” she replied, choosing to ignore Tom’s surprising accurate impersonation of her mannerisms. “We’re going to send the Doctor.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the slow update! Unfortunately a global pandemic and flu season in the Northern Hemisphere makes for a very busy pharmacist. Also, this chapter would not cooperate with me.  
> For anyone who is interested,  
> https://morsecode.world/international/translator.html  
> has an absolutely phenomenal morse code system that will not only type out anything you like, but play it for you as well. :)


	4. Chapter 4

_All living things contain a measure of madness that moves them in strange, sometimes inexplicable ways. - Yann Martel_

**May 18, 2379**

“It’s time,” B’Elanna whispered across the table. 

Mike Ayala looked up from his tray of nondescript prison food and glanced at the clock over her shoulder. He had been completely lost in his own thoughts, thinking about how in the 7 years on _Voyager_ he had never once imagined that he would ever miss Neelix’s cooking. 

“13:50,” he confirmed. 

“I’ll go give the signal,” she said quietly. “Make sure that everyone is there in 3 minutes.” B’Elanna stood up, picked up her tray, and headed for the recycler. Just as she got to it, her metal cup fell off her tray and landed on the floor. The sound in the quiet mess hall was deafening as it hit the concrete and bounced several times. “Sorry everyone,” she said, reaching down to pick it up. She placed the cup back on her tray and hit the recycle button and left the hall without looking back. 

The signal given, Mike watched as the others started leaving in ones and twos, mixed in with the other prisoners who were starting to head back to their duty assignments. Dalby and Chell. Tabor. Yosa and Smithee. O’Donnell and Murphy. Jor followed closely by Henley. Gerron was the last out. _That’s everybody_ , he thought. He counted to 10 in his head and then stood up to follow them out. 

He had been so focused on looking nonchalant while he accounted for everyone that he hadn’t noticed the dark eyes watching them all from across the mess hall.

  
**2 Weeks Earlier - May 3, 2379  
**

“Please state the nature of the medical emergency.”

Kathryn was slightly taken aback by the familiar line. “Hello, Doctor. Didn’t we adjust your subroutines so that you don’t have to say that every time you’re activated?”

“Captain,” he practically yelled. “Or should I say Admiral now? Dr. Zimmerman has kept me updated on the promotions.” He paused for a moment, looking uncomfortable. “And the unpleasantness.”

“Yes,” she replied quietly. “Unfortunately, there’s been plenty of ‘unpleasantness’ to go around, Doctor.” She stared at him as he fiddled with some instruments on Zimmerman’s desk. “Is there any update on if Command is going to allow you to work at Medical? Or on another starship?” 

“They say that my appeal is pending review.” He chose not to expound further. 

“Ah,” she murmured noncommittally. 

“But enough about me! What brings you here? Come to have a checkup with your old sawbones?” 

“‘Sawbones,’” she asked, raising an eyebrow at the antiquated expression. 

“I’ve been trying to improve my banter and colloquialisms seem to be endearing to most people.”

“Right,” Kathryn said, drawing the word out slightly longer than normal. “I actually need a favor,” she continued. “Did your mobile emitter end up here?”

“Yes, thankfully,” the Doctor replied. He crossed around to the other side of the Zimmerman’s desk and started opening drawers, searching for the emitter. “Dr. Zimmerman convinced Command that he was the best person to examine and attempt to replicate it. He hasn’t made very much progress but he allows me to use it as often as I like. Which is fortunate because otherwise I’d be cooped up here like a rat in a cage. Prison would be better!” A split second later, he registered what he had said. Whirling around to face her, he found her standing very still, an unreadable look on her face. “I’m so sorry, Admiral. That was wrong of me to say.” 

“It’s okay, Doctor,” she almost whispered. 

He went back to his search of the desk and then finally crowed triumphantly. “Here it is!”

“Good, download yourself into it. We need to go for a walk.”

Moments later, they exited Dr. Zimmerman’s apartment building and started walking up the sidewalk. They walked in silence for a few blocks, Kathryn lost in her own thoughts and the Doctor desperately trying not to have another gaff like his prison comment. Finally, 3 blocks away from the apartment, she slowed and steered them toward a bench. 

“You have something on your mind, Admiral,” the EMH stated. 

“Yes,” she returned simply. 

“The fate of the Maquis.”

“The fate of our crew,” she said quietly. It was a small correction, but critical. 

“Of course,” he said, mentally kicking himself for his choice of words again. “What is it, Admiral. What is it that you want to talk to me about?”

She sat on the bench beside him and was silent. Finally, she seemed to make up her mind. 

“You called them ‘the Maquis,’” she started. “Is that still how you see them? Chakotay, B’Elanna, all of them, are they still Maquis to you, even after having served with them for 7 years?”

“Absolutely not.” Her head snapped up in response to his tone, shifting her eyes from the sidewalk back to his face. “You know that they were all my crew. My charges. I referred to them as the Maquis because in some ways, I _did_ have to keep differentiating between members of the original crew and them while we were out there.” 

“How so?”

“From a medical stand point.”

“You’ve lost me, Doctor.”

“Well, their needs were different.”

She stared at him with a lost look still on her face. He realized quite suddenly that she had never understood this aspect of her new crew members. That none of them, not even Commander Chakotay had ever told her.

“Oh, Admiral. They never told you, did they?”

“Told me what?” 

“All of the Maquis required some intensive medical care when they first came aboard. Many of them required regular treatments and more frequent checkups for the entirety of the voyage.”

“What? Why?” He could see that she was completely confused now.

“They had no doctor on the _Val Jean_.” He saw the realization dawn on her suddenly. Her eyes widened as he continued. “From what they told me, there were very few Maquis doctors at all. The best that they could hope for was a medic or a nurse most of the time, and the _Val Jean_ had lost its medic 3 months before we were stranded in the delta quadrant. Every single member of that crew had some level of radiation sickness, many of them had poorly mended injuries - broken bones not set correctly, cuts that had been barbarically stitched or glued shut instead of properly repaired with a regenerator, untreated concussions, torn muscles - a few of them even had some more serious problems. Mike Ayala had a very slow bleed in his vertebral artery in his brain. He would have died in a month if it had gone untreated.” 

“Doctor, they went straight to work! Not a single one of them was placed on medical leave when we merged the crews. Are you telling me that you let these people serve while they had all these problems?” Her eyes were thunderous as she stared at him, daring him to answer. 

“Commander Chakotay asked me to keep it confidential. We needed them to help fill in the gaps in the duty schedule and he pointed out that they had been operating their own ship under the exact same circumstances with no issues and so it didn’t make any sense to keep them from being able to pull their weight and prove their worth.”

“That does sound exactly like Chakotay,” she admitted. 

“So you see, for me, there was always something of a distinction between the two crews simply because their problems were different. But they were all my crew, all my patients, all my friends.” 

She looked at him for a moment and then nodded. 

“Doctor, how would you feel about being a part of a rescue mission?”

“A rescue mission,” he asked. “What kind of a rescue mission?”

She took his arm and pulled him up from the bench. They started walking again, still headed away from Dr. Zimmerman’s building. As they got lost in the crowd, she rose up to her toes and started whispering in his ear. 

An hour later they returned to Dr. Zimmerman’s apartment.

"It’s a risky plan, Admiral.” 

“They’re worth the risk, Doctor,” she replied simply. “At least to me.” She shrugged as she turned away from him. “But I understand if you don’t feel the same way. There’s still your appeal to think of - ”

“I’m in, Admiral,” he interrupted. He paused for a moment, fiddling again with the instruments of Zimmerman’s desk. “You and I both know that what they did to our people was wrong. And we both also know that my appeal will go nowhere. Best case scenario is that they’ll leave me here to rot; worst case is that they’ll have my program decompiled. So, what I’m trying to say is that I have nothing to lose. But, Admiral,” he raised his eyes and looked back up at her, like he was willing her to understand and take his next words to heart, “you, Tom, Harry, you all have everything to lose. Have you really thought this through?”

“Doctor, they took everything from us the second that they decided to prosecute our family. You expect Tom to think that he hasn’t lost everything when they took B’Elanna from him? Harry still has his parents but Starfleet showed him their true colors and now he’s more lost than when we were in the delta quadrant. They have nothing left to lose, Doctor.” 

“And you, Admiral?”

“I promised I would get everyone home,” she said softly, her gaze falling to the floor. “I promised them.” She flicked her eyes back up to his face, her expression full of steel to cover the pain and the anger there. “I won’t let Starfleet break my promise.”

He nodded slightly. “Okay. I’ll start working on the modifications to my program. How long until the meet?”

“A week from today. You and Harry will have to go and do the negotiations alone. Tom and I will never make it in time from Mars. We’ll meet you the next day to move it. I’ll contact you in a few days with the final timeline.” She crossed the space between them and clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Thank you, Doctor. We couldn’t do this without you.” 

“I won’t let you down, Admiral.” She smiled at him and then released his shoulder, leaving him to start the work on his program. 

Her communication arrived on Tuesday. Harry would meet him on Wednesday, download him into the mobile emitter and then smuggle him on board a transport to Kronos. Once there, the negotiations rested entirely on his performance. He only hoped that he wouldn’t let them down. 

On Wednesday, Harry arrived at Zimmerman’s apartment a few minutes early. 

“How you doing, Doc,” Harry said, pulling him in for a hug and slapping him on the back. 

“Harry,” he answered. “Or should I say Lieutenant Kim? Congratulations.”

“Yeah, I finally got that promotion.” The Doctor watched a sadness cross the younger man’s face. “Too bad it’s meaningless, huh?” Not knowing what to say, the Doctor cleared his throat. 

“Do you want to see the modifications I’ve made?”

“Sure, we’ve got time.” 

The Doctor crossed to the table and put on his mobile emitter. “Computer, transfer EMH program to the mobile emitter.” A tone and a brief flicker in his form signified that he had been transferred. Reaching up to his shoulder, he started pressing the small buttons that would allow for the new parameters to adjust his program. He felt his frame flicker again and then heard Harry burst into laughter. 

“Is it bad,” the Doctor said self-consciously. His voice was gruffer than normal and at least one octave lower. Harry finally looked back up at him, tears streaming down his face as he struggled to bring himself under control. 

“No, Doctor,” he finally managed to croak out. “It’s absolutely brilliant. It’s actually way better than I was even expecting. How’s your Klingon?”

“Perfect, I’m told. You really think it’s okay?” The Doctor wandered into the bathroom to look at himself in the mirror. A very tall, very large Klingon stared back at him. His dark skin was flecked with scars from imagined battles, a particularly large one extending from his right eye up across his forehead ridges and disappearing into his long hair. His sharp teeth were darkened and his beard extended well past his neck to rest on his chest. 

Harry had followed him to the bathroom and was standing in the doorway. “It’s amazing, Doc. I just wasn’t prepared for it at all.”

“Let’s hope my acting skills are up to the challenge,” the Doctor replied, uncertainty apparent even in the voice he had given this Klingon personality. 

“It’ll be great, Doc. The Admiral wouldn’t trust you with this if she didn’t think that you were up for it.” 

“We’d better get going,” he said, turning back toward the still snickering Lieutenant. 

“Yeah,” Harry returned. He walked up to the Doctor and placed his hand on his shoulder. “I’m gonna deactivate you now, Doc. When we get to Vulcan, I’ll reactivate you and then you can use the dermal regenerator to disguise me before we catch the next transport to Kronos.”

“Vulcan?”

“Yeah, the official story is that I’m going camping in the Forge. That way no one has to lie about me being there, and the fact that I’m unreachable doesn’t raise any red flags.” 

“Smart.”

“Are you okay, Doc?”

The Doctor nodded silently. 

“Okay. Well, I’m going to leave you looking like this so that we won’t take the chance of someone seeing the real you on Vulcan.”

“That’s a good idea,” he said flatly. 

“Doc, I’m serious. You’re going to be brilliant. The Admiral wouldn’t have come to you if she didn’t think you could do this.”

“Thank you, Harry.” The Doctor looked at him gratefully. “You better get a move on. We’re going to be late.”

“Right,” Harry replied and the Doctor dissolved into nothing. 

They had arrived on Kronos two days later. Upon arriving on Vulcan, the Doctor had disguised Harry as a redheaded Bajoran to ensure that no one would recognize either of them. Once planetside, they had split up. Harry’s assignment was to purchase a small shuttle, since they would need a way to get back from Epsilon IV after they dropped the ship there. The Doctor would ensure that there was a ship to leave there. He took a deep breath to calm himself, reflecting in the back of his mind how ridiculous it was that the action could calm him when he didn’t breathe, and entered the dive bar. 

He strode quickly and forcefully to the bar and ordered a mug of blood wine. When it arrived, he downed it in a single swallow and then ordered another. He figured that he couldn’t be drunk, so he might as well make a good show of being able to hold his liquor. After his third glass, he stood and surveyed the room. His contact was supposed to meet him in the booth furthest in the back. He glanced at the corner and saw that while it had been empty when he arrived, it was now occupied. He picked up his fourth glass of blood wine and strolled over. 

“ _NuqneH_ ,” the man in the booth growled at him. What do you want?

“ _JIparHa'qu'mo' jIpu_ m,” he replied gruffly. I have business to discuss. 

The man gestured at the seat across from him and the Doctor knew that the game had begun. 

Two hours and many mugs of blood wine later, the Doctor emerged into the cold light of day, clutching a PADD containing the title, coordinates, and unlock codes to their ship. 

“ _BatlhbIHeghjaj_ ,” he called after his contact, as he walked away in the opposite direction. “May you die well,” he repeated quietly under his breath. Sliding quickly into the nearest alley, he pulled the small civilian communicator out of his pocket. Keying in Harry’s code, he waited while it connected. 

“Kim,” he heard after a few seconds. 

“It’s me.”

“Thank god! What took so long?”

“Negotiations cannot be rushed,” the Doctor snapped back waspishly. “Especially not underhanded ones.” 

“Did you get what we needed?”

“Of course, I did. Send me your rendezvous coordinates so I can meet you.”

“Sending now,” Harry replied. The Doctor saw coordinates appear on the screen of the communicator. 

“On my way. Doctor out.” He placed the communicator and the PADD in one of his inner pockets and then stalked out of the alley and headed for the rendezvous point. 

Ten seconds later, a man pushed himself off the wall he was leaning against and followed quietly. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anyone interested:  
> 1\. Yes, the Klingon is real.  
> 2\. No, I don't speak it.  
> 3\. Google gave it to me.  
> PS. If you aren't into The Adventures of the Doctor and Harry, Kathryn and Tom are back next chapter :)


	5. Chapter 5

_There are times when the mind is dealt such a blow it hides itself in insanity. - Patrick Rothfuss_

**May 18, 2379**

Cold was the first sensation that Kathryn was aware of when she materialized. _Autumn in New Zealand is surprisingly nippy_ , she thought to herself. She had materialized in a copse of trees just outside a small clearing on a hill. She pointed the phaser around quickly, Starfleet training kicking in like muscle memory. Finding herself alone, she stuffed the phaser into the bag resting on her hip and moved quietly towards the clearing, halting just at the edge behind one of the larger trees. Seconds later, she heard the unmistakable noises of movement coming from across the way. 

B’Elanna emerged first, eyes cautiously flitting around the clearing. With a small sigh of relief, Kathryn stepped out from behind the tree. She waved quickly and watched B’Elanna’s face break into a grin as she waved back. Kathryn suddenly found herself ensconced in a bear hug as B’Elanna rushed to cover the space between them and surprisingly, found herself hugging her friend back with equal enthusiasm. 

“It’s good to see you, Captain,” B’Elanna said quietly. “Or I suppose it’s Admiral now, isn’t it?”

“Just Kathryn, B’Elanna,” she answered. “And it’s good to see you, too. All of you.” She pulled back from B’Elanna and looked into the familiar faces of her former crew. She reached out to grab Mike Ayala’s hand and rested her gaze on each of the other’s faces. She felt her stomach drop when she realized that one face was conspicuously missing. 

She glanced back at B’Elanna and Kathryn could see that she understood. She shook her head slightly and whispered so that only Kathryn could hear, “I couldn’t convince him. He’s trying to be noble again.” 

It wasn’t a surprise, if she was honest. She had doubted that Chakotay would be one of the 12 Maquis that agreed to come with her. The idea of escaping this way, of going back to living life on the wrong side of the law - she had known deep in her soul that he would never agree to it. That it wouldn’t appeal to him. In fact, she was sure that it most likely had deeply offended him to even consider it. He _was_ far too noble, far too prone to martyrdom, to ever decide that this course of action would be right. Even still, her traitorous mind had built up the smallest of hopes, tiny whispers that would come late at night while she was alone saying _maybe for you_ and _possibly he wants to_ and _perhaps he will._ She could feel that hope die in her chest as she searched their faces one last time, thinking that maybe she had missed him. Maybe he had changed his mind at the last minute and followed them here. But he wasn’t. 

She swallowed quickly, stuffing the pain and the disappointment and the irrational anger that was her reaction towards his decision back down into the corner of her mind labeled with his name, not able to deal with them now. There was no time to reflect on the fact that those were the emotions he stirred in her most often now, when once it had been hope and happiness and love instead, even if they had been tempered by confusion and fear and commitment to duty. No time to figure out where it had all gone wrong and chastise herself for not being able to make it right even now. There was no time - not anymore. She had work to do instead. 

“Are you ready to get the hell out of here,” she asked just loud enough for them all to hear, a forced grin marking her face. 

“Hell yes,” Ayala returned. 

“Then let’s do it. Here, B’Elanna,” she said reaching into her bag and grabbing several of the transport enhancers. “Start planting these at meter intervals around us. They’ll make sure that we can all be transported in the same beam.”

B’Elanna nodded and took a few steps away from her, planting the first one a half meter to the left of Mike. Kathryn strode in the opposite direction and started on her side of the circle. The others quickly pushed themselves closer together, drawing themselves into the center of the ring that she and B’Elanna were marking. Kathryn was placing her last enhancer when she heard a twig snap. Her hand found the phaser in the bag instinctively and she drew it up in front of her, her entire body on high alert. 

A man stepped into the clearing, his dark eyes finding hers immediately. She felt the phaser drop from her hand into the grass. 

“Chakotay,” she breathed. 

**One Week Earlier - May 11, 2379  
**

Kathryn walked off the transport and self-consciously touched her nose. She and Tom had disguised themselves as Bajorans just like Harry and she kept catching her now larger nose bridge in her peripheral vision. It was starting to drive her a little crazy. 

Harry had managed to describe what his disguise would look like in a message he had sent to her on Wednesday by reminiscing about a mutual friend that didn’t exist. He had described a red-headed Bajoran man who always carried a green satchel. She started scanning the crowd at the offloading station, knowing that Tom was doing the same. There had been no way for them to return Harry’s message so they had to be the ones to find him, since he had no idea what they looked like. They had both opted to darken their hair and eyes, and Kathryn had darkened her skin some as well. The result was that neither of them looked even remotely similar to their usual selves. 

"Got him,” she heard Tom whisper. 

She turned to look in the same direction and spotted him too. She waved quickly and saw him register them. They walked rapidly toward him, weaving between the other passengers. 

“Good to see you,” Kathryn said quietly. 

“And you,” Harry returned.

“Any trouble?”

“Not so far.”

“We have everything we need?”

“Our mutual friend is with the supplies now.”

“Good. Let’s get a move on. We’re losing daylight.”

“Shuttle’s over there,” Harry said, throwing his thumb over his shoulder. 

“Lead the way, buddy,” Tom chimed in, throwing his bag over his shoulder and slinging his other arm around Harry. 

They made their way to the transport that Harry had managed to purchase. It was a small Vulcan shuttle that had definitely seen better days. The warp-ring drive was dented in several places and missing multiple pieces of plating, as was the hull. When Harry keyed in the unlock code, the door opened with a deafening creak and stopped about two-thirds of the way across. 

“It’s a diamond in the rough,” he said defensively when he saw Kathryn and Tom’s faces. 

“It’s great, Harry,” she returned carefully. “Isn’t it, Tom?”

“Phenomenal.” She elbowed Tom sharply in the ribs for his less than enthusiastic response. “Are you sure it flies,” he finished slightly breathlessly.

“It got me here,” Harry replied shortly. “And I took it into orbit on my test run. It’s airtight.”

Kathryn followed him into the cockpit, throwing a warning glare over her shoulder at Tom. She placed her hand on Harry’s shoulder. “I’m sure it’s a fine ship, Harry. You did an excellent job finding us something that will fly under the radar. And this means that we don’t have a single ship with the same origin source and that should make us even harder to trace.”

Tom had come into the cockpit during the middle of her reassurances. He was sitting at the instrument panel and running through the basic systems. 

“Well, Harry, I think that the Admiral and you are right for once. Everything internally looks good. She’s just not much to look at. Great job.”

“Now that it’s met your approval, Mr. Paris, we should get going,” Kathryn interjected, giving an understood censure in her use of his last name. 

“Aye aye, Admiral,” he said with an unrepentant smirk before engaging the thrusters that would lift them off. Harry gave her a grateful look and then slid into the copilot’s seat next to Tom, leaving her to sink quietly into the tactical position. 

“Where am I headed,” Tom asked. 

“Just set the heading for the last position it registered. I came straight from the ship.”

“So, what do you think of the rust bucket that the Admiral found for us, Harry,” Tom asked, purposefully trying to rankle her as he deftly maneuvered them into the sky and out of the transport hub’s airspace. 

“It, uh, it has potential,” Harry managed. 

“Potential, Admiral,” Tom threw over his shoulder. “Isn’t that the diplomatic way of saying that it’s a death trap?”

“Shut up and fly,” she answered, a small laugh escaping in spite of herself. “Besides, death trap or not, you’re the fool who has decided to bring your daughter on it.”

“Heaven help us all,” she heard him whisper under his breath, starting an honest to goodness belly laugh from Harry. 

“I don’t know why you’re laughing, Harry. You’re the one who gets to babysit for 4 days while we do this thing.”

“Miral and I are buddies!”

“Yeah, everyone is her buddy until you try and make her take a nap or eat her peas.” 

Kathryn laughed along with Harry and then tuned out the men’s banter. The closer they got to actually making this thing happen, the more she found herself wondering which of the Maquis were coming with her. She had thought of having Tom ask B’Elanna but there always seemed to be more important things that needed discussing and the logistics of how B’Elanna would even answer with that many people had always stopped her from bringing it up. She also didn’t want to admit to herself that her interest was confined to if one particular Maquis was coming. _He won’t come_ , she told herself for what felt like the millionth time. _And it shouldn’t even matter. You didn’t exactly leave things on the best of terms._ She sighed slightly at the understatement of the previous thought. _He’s not your friend anymore_ , she told herself emphatically. She shook her head, willing herself not to think about their last conversation and tuned back in to Tom and Harry. 

“How can you possibly think that K’Rell’s team will take the title this year? He was injured practically all of last season! If I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a thousand times, parrises squares is an endurance game and being out a whole season will put you at a serious disadvantage.”

“And I’m telling you, Tom, even out a whole season, K’Rell is unbeatable. Oh, there she is, Admiral,” Harry said suddenly, turning slightly toward her in his chair. 

Kathryn stood up quickly and came to stand between the two men, placing a hand on the backs of each of their chairs. Leaning forward, she looked out the viewscreen and saw the top of the ship that she hoped would be their salvation. As Harry had alluded to earlier, it wasn’t much to look at. Once it had clearly been a vibrant green, but it was mostly now a dull rusty color with occasional spots of dingy green showing through. Dents and burns from phaser blasts covered the hull and a section of one of the wings had been sheered off completely. 

“Does she fly, Harry,” she asked, needing to know the whole truth. 

“I think she will, Admiral,” he answered. “We haven’t tried yet, but from the diagnostics that I’ve run and the look I’ve had at the engine room, I think she will.” Tom was mercifully silent as he piloted the shuttle down to land near the ship. 

If landing the shuttle hadn’t done it, the loud creaking of its door opening announced their arrival to anyone within a 10 kilometer radius. _We’re going to have to fix that_ , Kathryn thought as she made her way out of the ship. She and Tom both froze halfway out and reached for their phasers as a very large Klingon strolled down the gang plank of the Bird of Prey. 

“Duck, Harry,” Tom yelled as he moved to fire at the intruder. 

“Wait, that’s the Doctor!” 

The Klingon quickly threw up his hands in front of himself. “It’s me! Shooting won’t do any good! And the last thing this ship needs is another phaser burn.” 

Tom slowly lowered his phaser and Kathryn did the same.

“Well, I’ll be damned, Doc. That’s an absolutely incredible disguise,” Tom said, making his way toward him to shake his hand. 

“Thank you for the compliment, Lieutenant.”

“I agree that it’s amazing, Doctor,” Kathryn chimed in, bringing up the rear. “So, what do you think of our little acquisition? Ready to call it ‘home’ indefinitely?”

“I suppose that it’s better than being decompiled, but only marginally,” he cracked drily. 

“Admiral Janeway.” The sound of her real name in an unfamiliar voice sent a chill down her spine. She drew her phaser and whipped around, Tom and Harry assuming similar poses. 

There was a man standing at the end of the gang plank. Where he had come from was anyone’s guess. He was wearing a long tan robe with a wide hood that was covering most of his face. What she could see of his hands and face were dark. 

“I come in peace,” he said raising his hands in front of himself like the Doctor had seconds before. “I have a message for you.”

“What makes you think that I’m Admiral Janeway? I don’t know anyone by that name,” she returned. He appeared to be unarmed; maybe she could bluff her way out of this. 

“My father sent me to find you.” The man slowly took his hands and pushed the hood off his head. Calm brown eyes bored into Kathryn’s. 

“Sek,” she asked, uncertain. It had been 15 years since she had seen him and it seemed impossible that Tuvok’s son could be here at all. 

“It has been many years, Admiral.”

“My god, it is you.”

“Indeed. We should not remain outside. There is much to discuss.”

“We all go inside over our dead bodies,” Tom returned coldly. 

“Tom, it’s fine,” she said, putting her hand on his phaser arm. “This is Tuvok’s son, Sek.”

“Tuvok’s son?” Harry’s question made it sound like she had just told him that their visitor was Captain Kirk or Attila the Hun. 

“Yes. Now let’s get inside before anyone sees him.” She felt Tom reluctantly drop his phaser and saw Harry follow suit. She ushered Sek up the gang plank as the men walked inside, sending him in slightly in front of her. Kathryn turned as she reached the top of the ramp and glanced around quickly. She could only hope that Sek had been their only tail. Seeing no one, she pressed the closing mechanism for the door and went in search of the men. 

Kathryn found them in the mess hall, which was located just off the main corridor of the second deck. Tom was leaning against the wall nearest the door and Harry was resting his arms on the back of one of the chairs at one of the zigzag tables that were bizarrely popular in Klingon interior design. The Doctor and Sek each stood calmly in the middle of the room. They all seemed to be waiting for her. 

“Sek, please have a seat,” she said, dropping into one of chairs and waving toward one that was situated roughly across from her. 

“As you wish, Admiral,” he said, sliding gracefully into a seat. 

“You said your father sent you?”

“Yes.” 

“Why?”

“He told me that he was worried about you. He said that you had a tendency toward actions that were most illogical when you were faced with something that you considered unjust or unfair.” He raised an eyebrow as he surveyed her altered appearance and then allowed his eyes to wander the room. “Clearly, his assessment proved accurate.”

She heard Tom push himself off the wall and quickly raised her hand to proactively silence him. 

“Ignoring how logical or illogical our actions are for the moment, how did you find us?”

“An accident,” Sek admitted. “I work at the travel ministry. When I saw that Lieutenant Kim was going camping in the Forge, I told my father about his upcoming visit, thinking that he might benefit from seeing one of his old shipmates. Instead, my father instructed me to watch for Mr. Kim and follow him. He and this Klingon lead me here.” He gestured at the Doctor. 

Kathryn threw a glance over her shoulder at Tom. Clearly they were going to need some lessons in spy craft from the Maquis. 

“Why did your father ask you to follow Mr. Kim? Did he want you to stop us?”

“He asked me to give you this,” he returned, reaching into his robes to retrieve a PADD. “I am to allow you time to view his message and return with a reply.” 

“I see,” she answered. She took the PADD from him and stood up. “Doctor, if you could show our guest to the sick bay? Tom, Harry, you stay with me.”

“Right this way,” the Doctor said, ushering Sek out of the mess hall. 

Once they were out of ear shot, Kathryn propped the PADD up against a light fixture in the center of the table. Tom and Harry gathered around her as she woke it and then hit play on the only message it contained. Tuvok’s face appeared, looking still not quite well. 

“Kathryn,” he began, “if you are watching this, it means that Sek has found you and that you are planning on doing something irrational.”

She heard Tom huff in irritation next to her but he had the good sense not to interrupt.

“As soon as I heard about the fate of our crew, I knew that you would not be able to sit by and allow what you saw as an injustice to be perpetrated on your charges. I knew that this was inevitable. I do not presume to believe that I can dissuade you from your mission. I have tried to sway you in situations like this and failed far too often. It would be illogical to expect a different outcome here, where the stakes are so high. What I do wish is for you to know that if you must do whatever it is that you are planning, that I will always be your friend and your ally. Please know that I am prepared to assist you, however you require it. Live long and prosper, Kathryn.” 

The screen went dark as the message ended. 

“Did Tuvok just offer to help us orchestrate a prison break,” Harry asked quietly, breaking the stunned silence. 

“Rescue mission,” Kathryn said reflexively. 

“He did offer to help though, right? I wasn’t hallucinating?”

“Yes, he did,” Kathryn replied, still shocked. She should have known not to underestimate Tuvok. She had purposefully left him out of this for a few reasons. The first was his health. He was still recovering from his illness and the message showed that he still had a long road ahead. The second was the fact that she had honestly not been sure that he wouldn’t turn them in. It pained her to think it now, but a part of her had believed that Tuvok would likely think that the Maquis deserved the sentences that they received. She only now realized how unfair that was to him. 

“I think we still keep him out of it as much as possible,” she began. “He’s still recovering and he has much more to lose than the rest of us.” She looked from Harry to Tom and saw them both nodding in agreement. “But maybe we can use him as a go-between. A way to get messages to our families.”

“That’s a good idea,” agreed Tom. 

“Okay. Let’s tell him so Sek can get back.” Kathryn leaned forward and tapped the PADD back to life. She first deleted Tuvok’s message, wiping the PADD completely. Setting it to record audio only, she paused for several seconds before starting her own message.

“My dear friend, your message of kindness and goodwill finds me well, irrational plans aside. While I miss you dearly, I do not think that it is a good time for you to come and visit. Our traveling workers will be arriving to work the fields soon and accommodations will be tight for many months. Messages from you mean the world to me and I will do my utmost to remain in contact. All my love to your family.” 

“What the hell was that,” Harry asked after she stopped recording.

“A message that will tell Tuvok what he needs to know but no one else,” Tom interjected. “Good work, Admiral.”

They sent Sek on his way quickly, watching him from the viewports as he uncloaked a shuttle very near where they had parked theirs and flew away. 

Kathryn took a deep breath, instantly regretting it when her nose filled with the musty smell of old ship combined with a strong odor of Klingon. “Harry, I want to see those diagnostics you’ve been running. The sooner we get this ship to Epsilon IV the better.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The muse is back, kids! Enjoy :)


	6. Chapter 6

_Crazy isn’t being broken or swallowing a dark secret. It’s you or me amplified. - Susanna Kayson_

**May 18, 2379**

Chakotay watched her from the trees. She was really here. She was really going to do this. She had lost her goddamn mind. He watched her hug B’Elanna tightly and take Mike’s hand and then he thought that he saw her looking for someone as she scanned the faces of the Maquis who had agreed to go along with her crazy plan. 

He saw her look back at B’Elanna and saw her face change as an unreadable expression crossed it when B’Elanna shook her head. He had known her for so long that he could see that she was struggling with something and watched her pull herself back together. It was like watching a vase unbreak itself. One second she was broken and confused and the next she was every inch the Starfleet captain that all of the people in that clearing remembered. He couldn’t help but wonder what had hurt her so, and then shook his head slightly to remind himself that he didn’t get to care about that anymore. 

He watched her hand dive into the satchel on her hip and saw her give some small metal disks to B’Elanna. B’Elanna walked away from him and started placing them on the ground. She walked the opposite direction, closer to him, marking the rest of the circle with the disks she had left. She was less than a meter from him now. Kathryn. His Kathryn. _Not your Kathryn_ , his brain reminded him. _You made sure of that_. Even with that bitter thought in his mind, he couldn’t stop himself from stepping out into the clearing. She heard him coming and suddenly she had a phaser in her hand. He watched her register him and then saw the phaser drop to the ground. 

“Chakotay,” she almost whispered. It wasn’t a question. There was no surprise in her voice at all. In shock, he realized that it was relief that he heard. “You came,” she finished, the tiniest ray of hope shining on her face in the small upturn of her lips. 

_No. Not like that._ Not like she meant. That wasn’t why he was here. 

“What the hell are you doing, Kathryn?” The question was harsher than he had intended and he watched her face change as she responded to its clear censure.

“The right thing, Chakotay.” Kathryn drew herself up to her full height and threw her hands on her hips. “I suppose it’s safe to assume that you came to argue with me about this and not to say that you’ve decided to tag along?”

“What you are doing is madness.”

“‘Sometimes an appropriate response to reality is to go insane.’” 

“Is that - Did you really just quote _VALIS_ to me? This is real life, Kathryn, not some fever dream of a 20th century madman!”

“Will you keep it down,” she hissed. “What did you expect me to do, Chakotay?”

“The sane thing. The rational thing. Anything but this.”

“It’s wrong. What Starfleet did to you all,” she said in almost a whisper. “I couldn’t just sit by while they took your lives away.”

“We got what we deserve,” he returned. He watched her eyes flash with cold fire and then just as quickly flame out. The fight fell out of her a little and just left her looking tired. 

“I’m not going to fight with you about this again.” Her voice was flat and even.

“Damn it, Kathryn, don’t do this to yourself!” He only sounded harsh and irritated, like he was merely offended by the childishness of her idea, but inside he was desperate for her to not throw her life away. Not for them. Not for this.

“You can’t save me, Chakotay,” she threw back at him, fire back in her eyes. “It was over for me and Tom the second we stole the _Flyer_. I’ve already broken at least a dozen laws and a good lawyer could probably make this out to be treason, so it literally doesn’t matter. Come with us; don’t come with us; it doesn’t change anything. We’re doing this.” She knelt back down, retrieved the phaser, and started to turn away from him. He could see that she only had one disk left. 

“Please, Kathryn,” he begged. She turned back to face him, surprise on her face from the sudden tenderness in his tone. 

“It’s too late,” she said almost regretfully. She paused and closed her eyes for only a second, mustering strength. “I don’t know why you care anyway,” she continued, “it’s like you said, we’re not friends anymore.” Her face was purposefully impassive but he saw the pain in her eyes and felt the coldness of her answer register in the pain reflected on his face. She dropped the last disk and then stepped into the center of the circle that she had created. 

“Tom - ” she said clearly into the air. 

“Everybody freeze right there!” A guard stepped into the clearing, his phaser rifle raised, whipping it back and forth across the group and Chakotay. Kathryn slowly raised her hands in front of her, as if in surrender. They all stood in silence for a few seconds, no one daring to so much as breathe. 

“Do it,” he heard her command into the silence suddenly. In that moment, time slowed around him. He watched as the guard started running toward them and then tripped, depressing the trigger of his rifle. He saw the beam of light slowly pulse from the barrel. He noticed his friends begin to look transparent as the transporter started dematerializing them. He registered the beam of light from the rifle as it crossed the space between the guard and his friends and realized that it was headed directly for Kathryn. 

_No. Not like this._

He felt himself moving, running, desperately trying to get in front of her before the beam could make contact. He realized that he was too slow and watched in horror as the shot got to her first, shearing across her right eyebrow and up over her forehead.

“Kathryn,” he yelled as he caught her before she hit the ground and then he felt the familiar hum of dematerialization take him apart. 

The guard was left staring at an empty clearing. 

  
**One Week Earlier - May 11, 2379  
**

“Shields?”

“Operational.”

“Cloak?

“Offline.”

“Still?” Kathryn ran her hand through her hair, loosening pieces from her ponytail. She swiped the tendrils out of her face, streaking a black mark of dirt across her forehead. “B’Elanna, Harry, and I are really going to have to put our heads together on that thing.” 

“B’Elanna can figure it out.”

“I know she can,” she replied with a small smile. She looked back down at the PADD in her hand where she was tracking the status of the ship’s systems. “Impulse engines?”

“Offline.”

“Hmm. Warp drive?”

“Op- ” Tom started, then sighed loudly as the console in front of him went dark. He tapped the screen a few times and then loudly slapped the side. The screen lit back up with a flash. “Operational,” he finished. 

“Well that’s a blessing, I suppose. Harry and I will have to get on the impulse engines right away.” They had spent the better part of the last 2 hours running through the diagnostics Harry had started and then starting repairs to essential systems. The situation wasn’t marvelous by any means but it wasn’t totally grim either. “What do you think, Tom?”

“If we can get impulse engines back up, I think it would probably be safe to attempt to get this thing to Epsilon IV. But we absolutely have to get them back.”

“I know we can’t go to warp in the atmosphere, Mr. Paris,” she bit back in irritation. 

Realizing his mistake, Tom twisted back around in his chair quickly and spent the next few seconds very focussed on the screen. “Admiral, come look at this,” he said a few seconds later. 

“What,” she said, stepping down from the tactical station to meet him on the lower deck of the bridge. 

“It looks like one of the landing arms is stuck. It’s probably a bad plasma hydraulic.”

“Either that or the conduit is stuck open and it can’t relieve the pressure to retract the arm,” she offered. 

“I should go look at it. I doubt it would be safe to go to warp with it still down.”

“I agree. You go do that, I’ll head back down to engineering and see if Harry and I can solve our impulse problem.” She patted his shoulder as she turned to walk away. 

“Admiral?” She turned back toward Tom with a questioning look on her face. “Don’t forget to have Harry check the impulse capacitance cells. He always forgets to make sure that they are in alignment.” 

“I’ll tell him.”

She headed down the neck corridor that connected the bulbous bridge in the fore of the ship to the body in the aft. She emerged in the transporter room, pausing briefly while she considered again what bizarre reason the designer could have had in mind when he placed it here. _Who puts the transporters this close to the bridge and this far away from the cargo hold?_ She shook her head in confusion and crossed to the doors that led to the turbo lift. She stepped inside and selected the symbol designating engineering. At least the lifts still worked. Having to crawl through access tubes to get anywhere would have just added insult to injury. 

When she arrived in engineering, Harry was laying on his back underneath a panel, using a plasma cutter to make some kind of repair. She heard him mumble something colorful under his breath as a fleck of plasma landed on his exposed forearm, giving him a small burn. 

“You know, Starfleet frowns on the use of that kind of language,” she said drily. 

“Jesus,” he yelled, sitting up and banging his head on the panel in the process. “Fu - I mean - well, fuck, Admiral! God, that hurt. Don’t sneak up on me like that!”

She burst into laughter as poor Harry dragged himself out from under the console, clutching his head with one hand. 

“Let me see,” she said, dropping into a squat beside him and moving his hand. “Well, it’s not bleeding, but you’ll have a very pretty bruise if we don’t hit it with a dermal regenerator.” She stood back up and found an emergency medkit on the wall. Finding what looked like a regenerator, she started running it along his head and watched the rapidly blooming bruise start to fade. 

“Sorry about the language, Admiral,” he apologized quietly. 

“I was joking, Harry,” she chuckled. “Besides, we aren’t a Starfleet ship. If you want to say fuck, you say it. Although, maybe not around Miral,” she amended. 

“Noted,” he replied. 

“Done,” she said, taking his jaw in her hand and turning his head back and forth slightly to survey her handiwork. “Now, what do you say we get impulse back online and move this bucket of bolts to Epsilon IV?” 

“Aye-aye, Admiral,” Harry returned with a grin. 

One hour later, and significantly grimier, Kathryn pushed herself back out of an access tube. “Okay, Harry, have Tom try it now.” 

Harry nodded and hailed the bridge. “Tom, the Admiral says we’re ready to try.”

“Acknowledged,” came the reply. “Powering impulse engines.”

Kathryn’s ears perked up as she heard the familiar hum of the impulse drive coming online. A few seconds later, Tom confirmed what she already knew. 

“Impulse engines operational! Good job, team!” 

“Tom, will you hail the Doctor in sick bay and have him meet me outside? He’ll need to pilot the shuttle so that the three of us can get back here after we drop the ship off planetside.”

“Will do!”

“What do you want me to do, Admiral,” Harry asked, as the console went dark. 

“You stay down here and keep an eye on the warp drive. If you want to work on more repairs, that wouldn’t be a bad idea either. It’s a six hour trip from here, so we’ll have some time,” she returned thoughtfully. “Then the Doctor can work through the night on getting our communications implants done and we should be able to haul ass back here in time to catch our transports. If everything goes according to plan, Tom and I should be back on Mars Monday afternoon and you should be back on Earth an hour or so later.”

“When has anything ever gone according to plan,” Harry asked. 

“Well, there’s a first time for everything,” she threw over her shoulder with a laugh as she left him in engineering. 

Emerging outside, she found the Doctor already waiting. 

“You ready to do this, Doctor,” she asked. 

“I’ve downloaded the schematics for this craft into my matrix, Admiral. I shouldn’t have any trouble getting her airborne.”

“Good,” she nodded. “Once we’re there, we’ll need you to do the surgery to install the communicators for Tom and me, and for Harry, if there’s time.”

“I’ve reviewed the Admiral’s instructions and already replicated the chips. It shouldn’t be a problem.”

“Excellent. Godspeed, Doctor.” With that, she turned on her heel and walked back into the Bird of Prey. 

“Well, Tom,” Kathryn said as she arrived on the bridge, “it’s now or never.”

“Powering thrusters, now,” he replied. 

Stabbing the button on the captain’s chair, she opened a channel to engineering. “Harry, we’re going to do this. Prepare for take-off.”

“Aye, Admiral!”

“Do it, Mr. Paris.” 

“Engaging thrusters,” he answered. 

Kathryn sank into the captain’s chair and watched the viewscreen as the ship started to slowly rise from the ground. A small part of her was absolutely shocked that it hadn’t exploded the moment that they tried to engage thrusters. She felt herself relax as the ship continued to rise in the air. Tom expertly maneuvered them into an upward trajectory and pointed them towards the edge of the atmosphere. She almost cheered when they broke through the exosphere. 

“We’re clear of the atmosphere, Admiral.”

“Lay in a course for Epsilon IV and prepare to engage at warp 8, Mr. Paris.”

“Course laid in.”

She pressed the hail on the chair and saw the Doctor’s face appear on the screen. “We are getting ready to go to warp, Doctor.”

“I’ll be right behind you,” he replied.

“Good. Janeway out.” The Doctor disappeared from the screen. “Do it, Tom.” 

“Engaging warp.” 

She watched the shape of the stars begin to shift and just like that, they were on their way. For 6 hours, everything was fine. Kathryn ran more diagnostics, making more notes on the PADD about systems that were operational and nonoperational, which ones would need upgrading and which would need a full overhaul. She even managed to fix the short in Tom’s console so that it stopped turning off at random. 

She was deep in the middle of a diagnostic of the life support systems when she heard Tom talking. 

“What did you say, Tom,” she asked. 

“We’re coming up on the nebula, Admiral.” 

“Slow to impulse,” she ordered. As they dropped out of warp, the Epsilon nebula became visible on the viewscreen. “All right, Tom. Take us in, nice and slow.”

Kathryn watched Tom as he maneuvered the ship into the nebula, watching the mapping sensors closely to avoid volatile pockets of gas and debris. 

“What gave you the idea of hiding the ship here, Admiral,” he asked, trying to give himself something to think about other than the extremely dangerous thing that he was doing. 

“Captain Ransom, actually. He hid in this nebula for 3 days when a Klingon ship he had been shadowing discovered them. The radiation from the nebula renders sensors useless until you’re practically on top of whatever it is you’re looking for. It interferes with long range communications, too. The Klingons had originally intended to colonize the planets but when they realized that they would be completely cut off from communication with Kronos and the rest of the Empire, they abandoned the idea.”

“So really it’s the perfect hideout for fugitives,” he said. A piece of turbulence rocked the ship as a pocket of gas exploded off their port bow and pushed debris into the shields. 

“Provided you’re brave enough and crazy enough to fly directly into a nebula,” she finished. “Careful, Tom.”

They continued their slow progress, and after 15 minutes finally saw the planet appear before them. 

“Home sweet home,” Tom said over his shoulder. She felt herself grinning back at him. They had done it. 

“Better get us on the ground then.” 

“Starting descent and landing procedures.”

“All hands, prepare for landing,” she announced over the ship’s speakers. 

“Does Harry really count as ‘all hands,’” Tom snickered. 

“Force of habit,” she mumbled. 

Suddenly the ship started to rock. 

“Report, Tom!” 

“I’m not sure what’s going on, Admiral,” he shouted back to her. “Shit,” he whispered under his breath. “It’s one of the landing arms. It’s deployed already. It’s creating drag.”

“Can we still land?” 

“Yeah, but it’s going to be a hell of a bumpy ride.”

The ship shook again, more forcefully this time as the sheer from the atmosphere started to increase. 

“Tom,” she said uncertainly.

“We’re almost down!” She felt the rest of the landing arms deploy and then suddenly the ground appeared before them. 

“All hands, brace for impact,” she yelled, just before she felt the ship crunch into the crust of the planet. Kathryn felt herself fly out of her chair, landing on the floor of the bridge on her hands and knees. There was one final unbearably loud jolt and then silence. 

She pushed herself onto her feet. “Report.”

Tom had smashed his head off the corner of the console and was applying pressure to a cut above his right eyebrow. “Well, we’re down.”

“I can see that.”

“It looks like we lost 2 of our landing arms and the internal sensors are showing some damage to the hull in the fore of the body and the bridge sections. There’s also some kind of alarm in engineering.”

“Well, it could be worse,” she said. She came forward and slapped him on the shoulder. “Way to get us on the ground, Mr. Paris.” 

“It’s not my best landing,” he said. 

“Not your worst either,” she returned with a wink. “I’m going to go check on Harry. See if you can get in the touch with the Doctor.”

“Will do.”

She whipped around and headed quickly for the lift, purposefully ignoring the sharp pain in her knee from where she had fallen. When the doors opened in engineering, she was immediately met with a wave of smoke. A klaxon was sounding and making some kind of announcement in Klingon. _Please don’t be the self-destruct announcement. Or the warp core breach warning. Or -_ “Harry,” she yelled into the smoke. “What the hell is happening?” Nothing. She ran out of the lift and started looking for the source of the smoke. “HARRY!” 

“Admiral?” 

The sound was coming from inside the wall. 

“Harry? Are you - are you in a wall?”

“Yeah.”

“What’s on fire?”

“Something’s on fire?”

“Well, there’s smoke everywhere!”

“Hang on!” She heard a loud bang, a muffled curse and then finally saw a panel open and Harry come tumbling out. “Jesus, there is smoke, isn’t there?”

“No, it was all a ploy to get you out of the wall.”

“Well, what’s on fire?”

“Maybe we should find out,” she yelled sarcastically. The klaxon was deafening. “And we have got to get that thing to shut up! I can’t hear myself think!” 

Harry nodded and ran towards the nearest panel while she started looking for the source of the smoke. She coughed as she ran toward the warp core, deciding that no matter what, it was the most important thing to secure. Finding the warp core to be intact and unharmed, she continued through the room. Blissful silence suddenly descended on the room as Harry turned the alarm off. 

“Thank you, merciful god,” Kathryn mumbled under her breath. “Harry can you tell what that alarm was for?”

“It looks like it was telling us fire suppression is offline,” she heard him yell back. “Have you found the fire?”

At that exact moment, Kathryn rounded a corner and found a sparking panel engulfed in flames. “Found it,” she yelled, grabbing an emergency extinguisher off the wall. She pulled the pin, offered a quick prayer to any and all divine beings that it would still work, pointed it at the panel and pulled the trigger. Foam billowed out of it and quickly put the fire out. Harry ran in after her and started pulling the access panel apart, quickly cutting all power to that section so that it couldn’t catch fire again. 

Both of them were coughing uncontrollably by the time they crawled out of engineering. They sat in the hall side by side after closing the doors behind them and took deep, gulping breaths of fresh air around the coughing fits. 

“We have to get back to the bridge,” she rasped through her sore and swollen throat. “There has to be a way to vent all that smoke.” 

Harry tried to speak but ended up coughing so hard that he had to lay down on the floor. When he finally stopped, he just nodded. 

“I’ll go,” she said, patting him on the shoulder. “When you can, head for sick bay. I’ll comm the Doctor and make sure he lands the shuttle.”

She pulled herself up the wall and slowly started making her way towards the lift at the end of the hall. She made it inside before another coughing fit left her doubled over and clutching her sides. She drew air into her lungs through pursed lips, slowly trying to reacclimatize them to oxygen and purge the smoke and particles. 

_Nothing worth doing ever comes easy,_ she reminded herself as she eventually managed to press the panel that would send her back to the bridge. It was something her father used to say to her. Nothing worth doing ever comes easy, Katie. He didn’t say it often, as so many things did come easily to her. More than just book smart, she had been born clever - quick to come to conclusions, to piece together information, to leverage a situation to her advantage - and had been imbued with a natural charisma that made people want to follow her and to listen to her ideas. She was naturally athletic to boot and so she didn’t often struggle in any area of her life. Phoebe called her “little miss perfect” when she was mad at her. Perhaps that was why her father made her do things that she was no good at, things that she hated, things like camping and violin lessons and watercolor classes and cross-country running and cooking. She had fought him tooth and nail on each and every one of them and he had always said the same thing. Nothing worth doing ever comes easy, Katie. She realized now the lesson in those things. Failure and setbacks were an inevitable part of life. If you didn’t know how to deal with them, you would fall apart when they came for you. _And I ended up enjoying watercolors, even if I am no good,_ she thought with a smile. _Maybe this ship will be the same. Maybe this trial by fire will be something that we all laugh about._

She slowly made her way back to the bridge, finally arriving in the middle of a coughing fit. Tom ran towards her. 

“What the hell happened down there? Where’s Harry?”

“Sick bay, hopefully,” she managed to gasp out eventually. “There was a fire.”

“I see that,” he returned. “I couldn’t raise the Doctor yet, but why aren’t you there too?”

“We have to figure out how to vent engineering. It’s full of smoke.” He seemed ready to protest but she cut him off. “We don’t have a lot of time, Tom. I don’t know what was in that smoke and we can’t take the chance that it will interfere with the warp core reaction.” She watched his face fall as he realized the truth of her words. 

“Fine,” she heard him sigh. “But you are going to sick bay the instant that we figure out how to vent the smoke.” She nodded and then the two of them split up, searching the consoles on the bridge to determine which one contained either engineering or security data. 

“I’ve got it,” he exclaimed a few minutes later. She crossed the bridge as he entered commands on the console and she watched as the screen displayed the lowering level of toxins present in the air. “Should be back to normal in no time. Let’s get you to sick bay.”

“We have to comm the Doctor first.”

“Right,” he replied. He headed back down towards the front of the bridge and hailed the shuttle. This time the Doctor answered. 

“Tom, is everyone all right? That looked like a rough landing.” The Doctor looked extremely concerned and the look on his face deepened when he registered Kathryn in the background covered in soot and grime, arms wrapped around her waist supporting her rib muscles. 

“There was a small fire in engineering, Doc. Can you land the shuttle as quickly as you can? Harry and the Admiral could both use your expertise.”

“You don’t look fantastic either, Mr. Paris. I’ll put down right away. Doctor out.” The screen went dark as the Doctor signed off. 

“All right, to sick bay with you,” Tom said, turning back around. 

“I’m fine, Tom,” she returned, but her throat was on fire and her chest ached like she had been dropped straight on her back and had all the air knocked out of her. As another coughing fit started, she felt Tom slide his arm around her waist and pull one of her arms around his neck. 

“Sorry, Admiral, but I’m not taking no for an answer,” he said. As he practically dragged her off the bridge and down to sick bay, he picked up the PADD that she had been making her list of system repairs on. Pausing their progress off the bridge, he scrolled through the list of systems. 

“Fire suppression,” he said aloud as he found it. “Offline,” he finished glibly. If every single part of her body hadn’t hurt so much, she would have smacked him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Late Thanksgiving, fellow Americans! Happy regular week in November, non-Americans!


	7. Chapter 7

_In a mad world, only the mad are sane. - Akira Kurosawa_

**May 18, 2379**

They materialized in the cargo bay of the _Flyer_ and instantly, there was chaos. Everyone started talking at once.

“Is this really the _Flyer_? How the hell did they get a hold of the _Flyer_ ,” he heard Dalby ask. 

“Everyone okay? Where’s the Admiral,” Mike yelled from his far left, too many people separating the two of them for him to be able to see that Chakotay was holding her in his arms.

“What happened to Chakotay? Did they shoot him,” Chell said loudly.

B’Elanna had immediately turned to face the group and started a head count. When she spotted him from across the room, she did a quick double take and then ran into the cockpit. 

“Go, Tom,” she yelled. 

Chakotay had taken off behind her, still cradling a hopefully only unconscious Kathryn to his chest. 

“No, you have to send me back,” he shouted over her.

“There’s no time, Chakotay,” B’Elanna hurled over her shoulder. “Go now!” Tom flicked his eyes up to his wife and then glanced back over his shoulder at Chakotay.

“What the hell happened to the Admi- to Kathryn,” he exclaimed. 

“Errant phaser rifle. We’ve been made, Tom. It’s now or never.”

“Is she alive,” he said, engaging the thrusters and pulling them away from the planet. 

“I think so, but you can’t do this,” Chakotay insisted, shifting his hold on Kathryn so that he could feel for a pulse behind her knee. He felt it there, strong and steady. _Just unconscious_ , he thought thankfully. “She’s alive,” he announced. “Now somebody else needs to take her and you need to beam me back down there before you break orbit!” 

“NO!” 

Chakotay was so surprised by B’Elanna’s outburst that he almost dropped Kathryn.

“I’m not sending you back down there,” she continued. “I’m not delaying our departure so you can be a martyr in some personal quest for redemption. You chose this the second you decided to catch her before she hit the ground.” 

“This isn’t your choice, B’Elanna,” he roared back. 

A shockwave hit the _Flyer_ and the whole ship rocked, almost sending Chakotay to the floor. 

“They’re firing torpedos at random,” Tom reported. “That one was only 10 meters to stern.”

“Get us out of here,” B’Elanna said, suddenly calm. 

Chakotay watched Tom’s fingers fly across the panel, felt the energy of the ship change as the impulse engines kicked off and the warp engines engaged. He glanced at the viewscreen and saw that they had turned away from Earth and watched as the stars elongated when the ship entered warp. 

“Looks like it is my choice,” she said quietly, refusing to look back at him. “Now take the Admiral back to the cargo bay and have Mike look at her. The Doctor will have all our heads if we bring her back unconscious.” Left with no other options, he turned on his heel and stalked back into the cargo hold. 

**Four Days Earlier - May 14, 2379  
**

“Welcome back, Admiral.”

“Thank you, Commander. It’s good to be back,” Kathryn said with a smile.

“I trust your mission was a success?”

“Yes, we found all the components that we needed to complete the armor modifications.”

“Excellent. How close do you think you and Mr. Paris are to a test flight,” he asked curiously. 

“Actually, I was just coming to find you. I think we can swing a test run by Friday. Possibly even earlier.”

“Wonderful! You certainly have made quick work with it.”

“Well, when you spend seven years in the Delta Quadrant, you learn to do things as quickly as possible under immense pressure.”

“Ah, yes,” he answered uncomfortably. Kathryn had figured out fairly quickly that mentions of her time in the DQ either made people extremely curious to the point of distraction or extremely uncomfortable. Lieutenant Commander Ang fell into the latter group. He shut down faster than a blast door whenever she made mention of that part of her past. She had used his discomfort to her advantage several times. 

“Well, just let me know when you are ready to test and I’ll be sure to clear it through proper channels,” he recovered finally, turning away from her to start down the corridor to his office.

“Absolutely,” she replied. She smiled to herself as she continued down the hall to her quarters. The Doctor had been able to repair her and Harry’s damaged lungs and implant the comm chips in all their heads without a problem. She and Tom had practiced with the chips as much as possible on their transport home and were getting pretty good. 

“Janeway to Paris,” she said as she entered her quarters. Seconds later, Tom’s voice was in her head. 

“Paris here.”

“Just testing, Tom,” she replied. “Make it back to your quarters okay?”

“Just arriving.”

“Good. Have a good night. Janeway out.” Severing the link, she dropped her bag into a chair unceremoniously. _I’ll unpack later_ , she thought. Walking into her bedroom, Kathryn collapsed onto her bed and seriously contemplated just turning in for the night. She wasn’t that hungry and it had been an exhausting few days. 

As she stared up at the ceiling, she found herself thinking about everything that had happened in the past year that had led her to this point. To a point in her life where she was about to turn her back on Starfleet and the Federation and almost everything that had ever mattered to her, all because of people that she had never thought she would care about at all. She reflected on how those people had become the things that mattered even more than the things she was leaving behind. 

Kathryn forced herself to stand up quickly, hoping that the action would derail the train of thought that she was on. That particular train was a dangerous one. It always led directly to Chakotay, and she didn’t want to think about him. 

She walked into the bathroom and splashed some water on her face, washing the fug of travel from her skin. Drying herself off with a towel, Kathryn stared at her reflection in the mirror. She turned her face slightly from side to side, examining it from several angles.

“You’re getting old, Kathryn,” she said to herself quietly. It was inevitable, she supposed. Time waits for no man and all that. But she was only 43 and couldn’t help but wonder how much of it was premature, how much of this exhaustion that she saw in her reflection could have been avoided if her choices were different. Would this choice that she was making only serve to age her even faster? To add more fine lines and grey hairs and sore joints? 

“Don’t be an idiot,” she said sternly to her reflection. Deep down, she knew she looked damn good for her age when she wasn’t running on 3 hours of sleep in the last 50 and hadn’t just traveled halfway across the quadrant and back in 3 days. The fine lines and grey hairs were just a part of life. Besides, it wasn’t like it mattered anyway. No one looked at her that way. Not anymore. 

She let out a frustrated noise at her reflection. Here she was, back to thinking about Chakotay again. _You really need to move on, Kathryn,_ she thought sadly, as she started pulling her hair out of the bun it was in. _He made his feelings for you perfectly clear._

But as she ran her hands through her freshly freed hair, longer now than it had been since their first few years on _Voyager_ , her traitorous mind couldn’t help but remind her how it had felt to have his hands in her hair. He had only done it once, while they were on New Earth, but it had stayed with her as a shockingly visceral memory. All he had done was slide his hands through it to move it off her shoulders. But she remembered that it had been so long since she had been touched affectionately at all, much less with so much tenderness, and longing, and even, she supposed love, that it had almost been too much to cope with. 

For the ten thousandth time, she wondered what would have happened if she had chosen differently. If she had just reached across the table and taken his face in her hands when he had told her how he felt about her later that night. If she had been brave enough, reckless enough, to be as honest with him. “It doesn’t matter,” she said aloud, needing to physically hear the words. “He moved on. You should too.” 

Kathryn walked back into the living room and decided to unpack after all. With each thing she put away, she imagined it was a part of her feelings about Chakotay. She needed to put them away too. By the time she was finished, her feelings had been pushed back into the dark corner of her soul where they were supposed to be all the time. They weren’t gone, but they were at least manageable there. She could only hope that someday she would go to look for them in that corner and find it vacant, having finally successfully purged him from her system. 

She tossed the empty bag in her closet and consulted a PADD for the time. She still had 2 hours before dinner service started. Sighing in irritation, she regretted leaving the PADD with the diagnostics for the Bird of Prey behind. It had seemed like a good idea at the time. She didn’t want to take the chance that someone would find it and wonder why she had information about a 60 year old decommissioned Klingon warship. But with nothing else to do, she was now faced with 2 hours to sit and think. 

Kathryn looked around her spartan quarters. _I cannot sit here for 2 hours_ , she thought emphatically. She crossed into the bedroom and stripped out of her uniform, donning a set of running shorts and an old Academy sweatshirt. _Maybe a run will do me good_ , she thought as she pulled her hair into a ponytail. She could test drive the repairs the Doctor had made to her lungs. She laced up her sneakers and headed out into the hall. 

An hour later, she returned to her quarters with just over 11 kilometers under her belt, sweaty and even more exhausted. At least she was too tired to think now. She trudged to her bathroom and stood in the shower for far longer than was necessary, relishing the feeling of the hot water on her skin. It wasn’t as good as bath, but it was better than nothing. When she finally emerged from her bathroom, she still had 30 minutes until dinner. 

Realizing that she hadn’t spoken with her mother recently, she sat down at the console in her room and looked to see if she had any missed messages. She hit play as one from her mother appeared in her inbox. 

“Hello Katie,” Gretchen Janeway opened, her smiling face beaming at her through the screen. “I hope that this message finds you well. I know that you said that you wouldn’t be reachable all weekend but I just wanted to talk to you and let you know that I miss you. I hope that you and Tom were able to find that component that you needed for the _Flyer_. Speaking of Tom, Owen wanted me to invite you to dinner at their house on Saturday. Tom and his little girl will be there, obviously, and a few other Starfleet people you know. Oh, and let me know when to expect you back this weekend. Phoebe is bringing her new flame around to the house for the first time and I want a second opinion. I love you!”

Kathryn only realized that she was crying when she heard the single stifled sob come out of her chest. She reached up to brush the tears from her cheeks but they were still coming, hot and fast, pouring down her face like they were coming from a well hidden deep within her. _I’m never going to see her again. I’m going to disappear without a trace and she’ll be left wondering if I’m dead or alive. Again._ She cried silently for a few more minutes, one hand resting on her mother’s frozen face on the monitor and the other pressed against her lips, and then finally managed to pull herself together. 

“No,” she whispered out loud. “It’s not going to be like last time.” She stood up and went back to the bathroom, splashing cool water on her face. When she was finally satisfied that she didn’t look like she had been crying, she went back out to the living room. Kathryn sat back behind the console and hit the button to record. 

“Hi Mom. It’s good to see you! Tom and I were able to find what we needed and so it was a successful trip after all. Sorry that I had to miss Sunday night dinner again. Tell Owen that I’d love to have dinner Saturday but that I’ll have to accept provisionally. We’re testing the _Flyer_ on Friday, your time, and so it all depends on how that goes. I might end up having to stay here this weekend, too. As for the Phoebe situation, I’m sure that you are more than capable of figuring out how suitable this new flame is. Your gut instinct is infallible. But obviously, I’ll give you my opinion, provided that I’ll get to come home. I’ll let you know when I have something concrete about it. I miss you and I love you always.”

She hit the send button and then took a deep breath before hitting record again.

“Hi Mom. If you are receiving this message then it means that Tom and I managed to do what needed to be done. I know our actions are going to seem confusing and crazy. Trust me when I tell you that we know.” She smiled painfully and then paused for a moment, gathering strength as she ordered her thoughts. 

“People are going to ask you a lot of horrible questions about it and most likely, they are going to say that I’ve gone insane,” she continued. “But we had to do it, Mom. It wasn’t fair - wasn’t _just_ \- and I couldn’t sit by and just accept that injustice anymore. If you don’t understand, I get it. I doubt that Dad would, but I think that you will. Please know that I love you so much and that few things in my whole life have ever hurt more than knowing that I am going to have to leave you like this. Please tell Phoebe that I said to take care of you. And you need to keep taking care of her. Look out for each other. I’m sorry for hurting you. But I’m not sorry for doing this. I love you, Mom. I always will.” 

She could feel herself starting to fall apart again and cut the recording. Kathryn took several deep breaths and tried to focus herself. Crying would get her nowhere. Finally back together, she set the delivery time on the message to Friday at 9 am, Bloomington time. It would arrive an hour after their rescue attempt. _We’ll either be free and well on the way to Epsilon IV or they’ll have caught us red handed and this message won’t damn us anymore than we will be already._   


Looking at the time, she saw that dinner would start in the mess in 10 minutes. 

“Tom,” she said, opening the link between them again.

“Tom here.”

“Meet me in the mess for dinner? I just thought of something that I want to run by you.”

“I’ll be right there. Everything all right, Admiral?” Kathryn could hear the concern in his voice.

“Yeah, just something that needs to be done before we leave.”

“Okay. See you in a few minutes. Paris out.”

She quickly changed into some casual clothes and pulled her still damp hair back up into a quick French twist. Tom needed to send his family a message, too. She wasn’t sure that he would agree to do it, but the Parises were about to lose far more than her mother was. They would lose their son again and also their granddaughter and any future children that Tom and B’Elanna might have once they were reunited. The least that Tom could do was tell them goodbye. She squared her shoulders and headed for the mess. 

The next three days were a whirlwind. Kathryn and Tom started working 18 hour days as they rushed to finish the final modifications to the _Flyer_. Wednesday brought a quick message from Harry confirming that he had picked up Miral and was headed for Vulcan. 

Tom had told his parents that Harry was bringing Miral to Mars to meet up with him and B’Elanna’s father, who had been angling for a visit with her since _Voyager_ ’s return to Earth. Unfortunately, he lived on Wolf 424 and so it had been impossible to coordinate so far. Tom had told his parents that his father-in-law just so happened to be coming to Mars for business and asked if they could have Miral packed so Harry could drop her off. Mrs. Paris had taken some pretty significant convincing to not just bring the youngest Paris up to Mars herself, but when he had told her that Harry was already coming that way to attend a conference on Vulcan and pointed out that B’Elanna’s father would likely appreciate some one on one time with his grandchild, she had relented. If everything went according to plan, Harry and Miral would make it to Epsilon IV by Friday evening. 

Thursday night found them running through the final systems check on the Flyer. Kathryn stretched her stiff neck and raised her arms up over her head, linking her hands and pushing them up towards the ceiling to stretch her back. 

“Well, Mr. Paris, everything seems to be working. Congratulations.”

“And we did it with -” he paused and looked at the onboard chronometer, “6 hours, 47 minutes to spare.” He grinned at her before adding, “We’ve got some time. Want me to add a tennis court in the cargo bay?”

“Well, we will need something to occupy our time for the 26 hour flight,” she laughed. They lapsed into companionable silence as they each examined their consoles again, searching for any anomaly, any error that could possibly create a problem tomorrow.

“I don’t know that I’ve ever said thank you, Admiral,” Tom said, breaking the silence. 

“For what,” she returned distractedly, not looking up from the screen in front of her. 

“For this, Admiral.”

“Oh,” she replied. She looked up at him and found him staring at her with an almost unbearable look of gratitude. “Well, you’re welcome.” She paused for a moment, uncharacteristically at a loss to explain herself. “But you don’t really need to thank me. I couldn’t leave them either, Tom. I need to do this as much as you do.” 

He nodded quickly and then went back to monitoring the last diagnostic that they were running. 

“Have you come to terms with the fact that we’re about to be fugitives,” he asked, obviously attempting to lighten the mood again. “I’ve already replicated a long cloak with a giant hood so that I can look sinister.”

She smirked up at him quickly. “I’m sure you have. And not really. I’ve been on the wrong side of the law before - always on planets with different laws than we have - but never for something this monumental and never without Starfleet there to back me up. It’s going to be a new experience.” 

“Well, there will be a lot of us with plenty of practice in that area to help you,” he laughed. The final diagnostic finished and declared the new cloak to be working perfectly. 

“Have you recorded a message for your parents,” she asked quietly, as he leaned back against his chair. 

“No.”

She sat silently, waiting to see if he would continue or if she should just consider the matter closed. 

“I just don’t know what to say,” he said quietly. “I’ve started 3 or 4 times and it just all seems pointless. Dad and I - ” He stopped, trying to figure out how to describe his still extremely complicated relationship with Admiral Paris. “Things are better, obviously. I’ve proved that I’m not a fuck-up - well, not just a fuck-up,” he amended with a pained smirk. “I gave him a grandchild and even did it within the confines of a marriage, which you wouldn’t think would matter any more but apparently does to him. But I married a criminal. I stood by her through her trial and have stayed by her while she’s been incarcerated. I practically exiled myself to Mars, haven’t tried to advance within Starfleet. I mean, they both say that they don’t agree with what happened to our people, but they just seem like they expect me to accept it and move on. Quietly divorce B’Elanna, find someone new, keep my head down and put this whole thing behind me.” He looked at her with an expression on his face that was equal parts outrage and resignation.

“They still deserve an explanation, Tom. Even if they won’t accept it.”

“I know,” he replied resignedly. “I’ll think of something.”

“It doesn’t have to be much. Just tell them that you love them and that you don’t like hurting them, but that you have to do this. Tell them that you’ll tell Miral about them. That she’ll grow up knowing how much they loved her.”

“Is that enough?”

“I don’t know. But it’s more than anyone got last time we disappeared without a trace,” she said with a shrug. “This way, they’ll have some closure. They’ll know that we did it and why and that we are okay. It’s not much, but at least it’s better than not knowing anything at all.”

“Yeah,” he said quietly, before lapsing into thoughtful silence. 

“Well, I’m going to turn in. See you at 0500 for preflight,” she said as she stood up, rubbing the back of her neck. 

“See you then. Don’t forget your luggage.”

“You make it sound like an Atlantic pleasure cruise that we’re going on tomorrow,” she replied with a laugh. 

“Think we should change the name to the USS _Loveboat_?” 

“Not unless you want me to kill you before we even leave orbit,” she returned over her shoulder as she exited the _Flyer._

Ten minutes later, Tom stood and stretched his back. He had run every diagnostic twice with the Admiral and had already worked his way through the preflight checklist three times. There was nothing to do except try to get some sleep. 

When he got back to his quarters, he was too wired to sleep. He unpacked and repacked his bag, making sure that all the essentials were there. His PADD with all his holophotos of his small family, another with his music collection and a selection of 20th century films and television, his isolinear chip that contained his whole Captain Proton holodeck program, B’Elanna’s favorite tricorder that she had smuggled off of _Voyager_ , her favorite book and favorite outfit, a small ceremonial blade that one of the Delta Quadrant Klingon’s had given her, and the figurines from the mobile that she had made for Miral’s crib were all there. Harry was bringing Miral’s baby blanket since she still slept with it. 

He ran through his mental checklist and then pulled the PADD with the photos back out of the bag. He set it to interface with the console in his quarters and quickly downloaded some photos that his mother had sent him of Miral with her grandparents. There was even a single shot of all of them, B’Elanna included, from their very first day back on Earth. Miral was only about a week old but it was the only photo of all of them that existed. They had arrested B’Elanna two days later. He stared into the photo and was overtaken with a sudden sharp sadness. They had all been so happy. 

He put the PADD back into his bag and zipped it shut, before dropping it next to the door. Crossing back to the console, he dropped into the seat and pulled up the message system. He took a deep breath and recorded his farewell message. Setting the arrival time to 6 am San Fransisco time to ensure that his and Kathryn’s messages reached their families simultaneously, he finally walked into the bedroom and dropped into bed. 

“Computer, set alarm for 0400,” he ordered. A chirp answered to confirm his order and he fell into a deep sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this chapter is kind of heavy. Hang in with me! This catches us up to present so this should be the last of the major flashbacks.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, kids, I'm a lying liar. To each of you who I promised that we were done with flashbacks, I apologize. There is one in this chapter and there will be one in at least the next chapter. I'm just going to learn my lesson and stop trying to pretend like I actually know where this is going any more than you do.

_Doubt … is an illness that comes from knowledge and leads to madness. - Gustave Flaubert_

**May 18, 2379**

The sting of a hypospray was the first thing that Kathryn felt upon her return to consciousness, followed rapidly by one of the most significant headaches she had ever experienced. She groaned and reached up to rub her head. 

“Welcome back, Admiral,” Mike Ayala said to her. He was trying to make light of it, but she could hear the worry and relief in his voice. She didn’t remember why she had been unconscious but it must have been a close call. 

“What happened,” she asked, another groan slipping out before she could catch it as she tried to sit up. 

“You got shot.”

“The guard,” she said, starting to piece it together.

“Yeah. He fired as he fell and the blast hit you right here.” He tapped a finger against her right eyebrow and she winced. “Fortunately their rifles are set to stun, otherwise we would have left half you brain down there and the other half would be all over Chakotay.” 

“Did everyone make it out?”

“More or less,” he answered, a strange quality having entered his voice that she couldn’t put her finger on. Even still, she sighed in relief that everyone had made it. 

“What did you mean before,” she asked a few seconds later, as something about their conversation rankled the back of her mind.

“About what?”

“You said that half my brain would have been down on the planet and the other half all over Chakotay. What did you mean?”

“Well, a phaser rifle set to kill would have blown through your skull like it was made of tissue paper.”

“No, I get that,” she said, irritated and impatient. “Why would the other half of my brain be on Chakotay. He wasn’t that close when we beamed out.”

She watched Mike’s eyes widen and then flick over to the corner of the cargo bay. She followed his gaze and stared in complete shock when she saw him sitting on the floor in the far corner, legs stretched out in front of him and head pressed back against the bulkhead with his eyes closed. He was here with them. _Chakotay. How? Had he changed his mind?_ She tore her eyes from him and refocused on Mike. 

“How,” she asked forcefully. 

“He saw that the shot was headed for you and jumped into the circle just before we dematerialized. He must have caught you before you hit the ground, because the first time I saw him after we arrived, he was holding you in his arms.” _More or less_ , she thought, the realization dawning on her as she suddenly understood his answer to her question. _He meant more. One more person than we were expecting._

“But he’s still here.”

“Yes.”

“He didn’t ask to go back?” She would be shocked if he didn’t. 

“He did. Loudly.”

“Why is he still here then? The last thing we need is for Starfleet to be able to consider him a hostage.” She was livid. _How could they have kept him aboard if he doesn’t want to be here?_

“You’ll have to ask B’Elanna,” he replied, shrinking slightly from her wrath. “From what I overheard, I gather that it was her decision.”

_Of course_ , she thought. _Of course, it would be B’Elanna who decided for him that he couldn’t go back._ She shook her head absently and then immediately regretted the decision as it caused her head to scream in pain. 

“Any chance we’ve got something in that medkit for a headache,” she asked Mike with a groan. 

“Coming right up, Admiral,” he replied, relieved that she seemed to be distracted from her anger.

Kathryn angled her neck for him and felt the headache dull almost immediately. She rubbed absently at the spot on her neck where the hypos had been administered as she tried to decide what to do. She didn’t want to talk to him in front of everyone but they were 20 some odd hours from being able to find anything even resembling privacy and she didn’t think it was a good idea to let him stew about it for that long. _Unless_ \- she thought. She swung her legs over the side of the emergency biobed and started to stand. 

“I’m not sure this is a good idea, Admiral,” Mike said, grabbing her elbow as her feet hit the ground.

“I’m fine, Mike. Right as rain, see?” She extended both arms as far as they would go and then touched the tips of each index finger to her nose one at a time. “I can do a recitation of some kind, as well if you’d like. Maybe the Gettysburg Address?”

“Admiral -” he started, but she cut him off.

“It’s just Kathryn now. And I promise that I’m okay. Now retract that biobed so that there’s more room back here. It’s a 26 hour flight to get where we’re going. I’m going to go check on Tom and B’Elanna.” She raised her voice slightly for the last sentence and noticed Chakotay watching her out of the corner of her eye. She turned and headed for the cockpit, knowing without having to check that he would be right behind her. 

She strolled purposefully into the cockpit, but stopped short just inside the door when she saw what was going on inside. B’Elanna was straddling Tom in the pilot seat, lips locked together with his so fiercely it looked like they were trying to devour each other. B’Elanna had her hands in Tom’s hair and his disappeared somewhere under her prison uniform. The two were so lost in each other, they didn’t even notice that she had entered the room. 

She cleared her throat loudly to no effect. They were completely unreachable. She was trying to figure out what her next move would be when Chakotay barreled into her back, throwing her forward. Kathryn threw her arms out in front of her, hoping to catch herself on the Ops console but an arm snaked around her waist quickly, breaking her fall before she even got that far. As rapidly as the arm had appeared, she felt it fall away.

The noise of their collision was finally enough to break Tom and B’Elanna apart. 

“Admiral,” B’Elanna exclaimed in embarrassment, scrambling to push herself out of her husband’s lap. She was nervously adjusting her clothing and Kathryn couldn’t help but see that Tom was having to do the same thing. “We were just - I mean, it’s not what - oh hell,” she finally finished. “It’s exactly what it looks like.” 

Kathryn unsuccessfully stifled a grin as she watched Tom turn an extremely vivid shade of red. For someone who had been quite the playboy, he blushed awfully easily. 

“Sorry to interrupt,” she said, holding her urge to burst into laughter at bay. “I thought I would give Tom a break at the conn. He should go say hello to everyone.”

“Right,” Tom said, standing up very quickly. He grabbed B’Elanna’s hand and started tugging her toward the back of the cockpit. “Sorry, Kathryn,” he whispered as they slid by her and Chakotay on their way out. 

“No need to apologize,” she replied. The two headed quickly for the door before Kathryn stopped them. “And Tom? Please try to keep it in your pants while we’re all stuck in the _Flyer_ , huh?” Tom’s face turned even more red as B’Elanna burst into a laugh. 

“No guarantees, Admiral,” she said as she pulled her husband the rest of the way out of the door, leaving Kathryn laughing in their wake.

She was still quietly laughing when she caught sight of Chakotay. He was turned slightly away from her, eyes on the door where B’Elanna and Tom had disappeared and was wearing a small smile on his face. She hadn’t seen him look so relaxed and happy in so long that seeing it hurt like getting kicked in the stomach. She dropped her gaze from his face quickly, hoping that he hadn’t noticed her staring and turned back toward the front of the cockpit. She walked down the incline toward the pilot’s seat, eyeing it warily. When nothing suspect appeared to be on or in the seat, she dropped herself into it and started examining the readouts on the screen. Everything appeared to be working perfectly. Long range sensors showed no vessels pursuing them and all systems were working at optimum efficiency. According to the computer, they would arrive on Epsilon IV in 25 hours 11 minutes. Left with nothing else to do, she spun the chair around to face the man behind her. 

He had moved forward to stand in front of the tactical station, leaning his back against it with his arms crossed in front of him. The smile that had been there seconds ago was gone. They stared at each other in silence for a few seconds, neither really knowing where to start.

“Thank you,” she said, finally breaking the silence. “For catching me. You really didn’t need to. I would have been okay.”

“It was a reflex,” he replied shortly. 

“Right.” They lapsed into uncomfortable silence again.

“You have to take me back, Kathryn.” His voice was low and serious. Beneath the calm she could sense the anger just under the surface, threatening to spill over. 

“You know I can’t do that,” she replied, forcing her voice to be equally calm. 

“This isn’t what I want, damn it,” he yelled, slamming his fist into the wall before turning to walk away from her. 

“You think I don’t know that,” she bit back forcefully. “Do you really think that I’m that dense? That I haven’t figured out that you don’t care where you are, just as long as it’s far away from me?”

He whirled back around to look at her and for just a split second, she saw a look of intense pain on his face. It was replaced by anger so quickly, that she wasn’t sure that she didn’t just imagine it. 

“So take me back then.” 

“I can’t, Chakotay,” she yelled in frustration. “You know, I can’t,” she finished more quietly. She sighed heavily and ran her hand across her face. “I cannot - will not - risk the freedom of everyone else so we can take you back to prison.” He started to interrupt her but she threw her hand up between them and fixed him with a glare. “What I can do, is offer to take you wherever you want to go once I get them to safety. If you want to go home to Trebus, I’ll get you there. If you want to go to some border world and disappear, I can make that happen. Hell, if you want me to have Mike and Tom rough you up a little and stuff you into an escape pod so that it looks like you got away from us, I’ll do it. But you have to wait until I’m sure the others are safe.”

“Not good enough.”

“Well, it’s going to have to be, because it’s all I have to offer,” she said as she turned her chair back to face the console, effectively dismissing him like they were back on _Voyager_. She punched a few buttons on the console as she watched his reflection in the viewscreen. He took a step toward her, paused, and then shook his head angrily. She watched him turn and start towards the rear of the cockpit. 

“I’m sorry,” she almost whispered.

“I know,” he replied, his back to her. “Sometimes sorry isn’t enough, Kathryn.” With those words he stepped into the cargo bay and she was alone. 

She dropped her head forward to rest her forehead on the console. _You can’t fix this. Let him go._ It was the Admiral’s voice. Ever since she had met her future self, the most negative thoughts in her mind were always spoken in that voice - a voice older, more bitter, more cynical than her own. “I know,” she said quietly. “I am. I’m letting him go.”

**6 Months Earlier - December 7, 2378  
**

Kathryn strode through the now familiar corridors of the Starfleet detention block. Located in the lower levels of the Starfleet Headquarters building, this was where the third of her crew who were former Maquis were still being kept while they appealed their convictions. Less than 10 days after arriving back in the Alpha Quadrant, Starfleet had arrested all 41 former Maquis and charged them with espionage, war crimes, and treason. She was ashamed to admit that it had taken her completely by surprise. There had been no warning, no hint at all, about the fact that Command was leaning toward legal action against them. Instead, they had been rounded up in the middle of an afternoon, packed into transports like cattle and delivered to HQ. Kathryn had been visiting with Tom and B’Elanna at Admiral Paris’s house when they had come for B’Elanna. She hadn’t been able to get the sound of Miral screaming for her mother and the picture of Owen having to physically restrain his son as he reached desperately for his wife out of her mind. It haunted her dreams. 

She had started fighting for them immediately. Anticipating that they would be handed over to the civilian court system, Kathryn had started fundraising for a public relations campaign that would ensure that they were seen as heroes by any potential jury members. When Starfleet had announced that they would be tried in their court, she had been shocked. They hadn’t been Starfleet when they had been in the Maquis. She hadn’t been sure how Starfleet could even begin to think that they could try them. The lawyers for all the former Maquis had objected to the trial and moved to have the cases transferred to civilian courts due to lack of jurisdiction. But the pleas had fallen on deaf ears. Instead, the kangaroo court had tried and convinced all of them. It had taken 6 months to get through them all, but they had done it. She had ensured that appeals were made immediately. The Court of Starfleet had no district court to appeal to and so they had lumped all the cases together at the end of Chakotay’s trial and appealed _en masse_ to the Supreme Court. As she walked down the hall, there was a spring in her step for the first time in weeks. She had good news. 

Kathryn finally entered the cafeteria at the end of the hall. Surprisingly, visitation for prisoners hadn't seemed to change much in the last 400 years, at least if 20th century films portrayed the process accurately. At each table sat a prisoner, waiting to receive visitors for their twice weekly 2 hours of visitation. She made a habit of visiting all her people, especially the ones whose families and friends were off-world, but today she was here to see him. She wanted him to be the first to know. 

When Kathryn spotted him at the table in the corner, a small smile appeared on her face. She hated seeing him here, but it was better than not seeing him at all. She crossed quickly through the room, pausing only briefly to clasp a hand here and give a reassuring smile there, until she was finally able to plop gracelessly into the chair across from him. She was so excited to tell him her news that she didn’t even notice the strange look in Chakotay’s eyes. 

“They’ve taken your cases,” she said to him, eyes dancing and cheeks flushed. “The Supreme Court has agreed to hear our arguments and rule on all your convictions!” She was so elated that it was all she could do to keep herself from bouncing in her chair. “Phillipa says that we have a very good chance of getting them overturned and sent to a civilian court, which will mean bail and freedom while you work through that system, and no civilian jury will ever convict you all - everyone still loves us too much - and isn’t it marvelous?” It all came out of her in a breathless unbroken rush but when she finally paused, she realized that something was very wrong. “Chakotay? Did you hear what I said? The Supreme Court - ”

“I heard,” he said quietly. He was looking away from her, eyes fixed on a child’s painting on the wall. 

“Well, aren’t you excited? This is what we’ve been working towards,” she said slowly. 

“What _you’ve_ been working towards.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“What do you think it means, Admiral?” He turned to look at her and she was shocked to find anger in his eyes. 

“Since when do you call me Admiral? Chakotay, what’s wrong?” She reached across the table to place her hand over his. For a second, she thought that he would tell her. He stared into her eyes and suddenly seemed like he was in immense pain, but in a flash it was gone, replaced by a cold steel that she hadn’t seen in him since he had put the Starfleet uniform back on and become her first officer. He pulled his hand out from under hers and slid it out of her reach. She stared at her own hand in shock, now resting awkwardly on the table between them, before she slid it back to her side so quickly that a bystander would have thought that she had been burned. 

“Why are you here, Kathryn?” There was venom in the way he said her name. He never said her name that way. 

“To tell you the good news,” she replied uncertainly. 

“No, why are you _here_? Why did you come to me? Why not send something out to everyone? Or tell one of the others? Why are you here, with me?”

“I’m going to tell everyone,” she started indignantly. “I picked you to start with because you’re their commanding officer in here. And because you’re my friend. My best friend.” 

He laughed mirthlessly, the sound harsh and biting, more like a bark than anything else. 

“Your best friend? Oh, Kathryn, we aren’t friends.”

It was like being slapped. She sat back slightly, feeling the waves of anger radiating from him. 

“What,” she said in a daze. 

“I’ve had a lot of time to think in here and I realized it. We were never friends. I was never your friend. I was your tool. I helped you keep the Maquis in line. I organized duty shifts and ran away missions. I handed out discipline and traded resources. I even played your stooge a few times. But I was never your friend. A friend wouldn’t have pushed me into madness in chaotic space. A friend wouldn’t have thrown me in the brig for preventing her from committing murder. A friend wouldn’t have shut me out when she was hurting and questioning herself. And a friend would have been happy that I found happiness with someone. You aren’t my friend, Kathryn.”

“What? Where is this coming from,” she returned in confusion. “I have never once, not ever, thought of you as a tool. I admit that I’ve definitely made mistakes in our relationship. I did some awful, horrible things and I’ll have to live with them for the rest of my life. But I apologized for each and every one of those things and you said that you forgave me. And as for you and Seven, I _am_ happy for you. I mean, I was a little shocked when I found out - ”

“You’re sending her away.”

“Oh,” she said quietly. “That.” She paused for moment, trying to collect her thoughts. This conversation had been like whiplash and she was struggling to recover from the sudden turn it had taken. “She’s only going to Vulcan, Chakotay. And she’s only going because that’s where the regeneration research is. The Vulcan Academy is spearheading it. I’m sure it will be fine. She can be back here in less than a day.”

“She’s going because you made sure there was nothing on Earth for her.”

“She picked it, Chakotay, not me,” she finally exploded. “I gave her a selection of projects, most of them on Earth, and she picked Vulcan. I’m not intentionally sending away your girlfriend.” 

“I don’t believe you.”

“Fine, then don’t believe me. Ask her yourself next time you see her.” She watched him inhale sharply and his face contorted for the smallest second before the look of impassive rage was back, twisting his features into a something like disgust. _How is it possible for someone to look so angry and so disinterested simultaneously_ , she thought to herself.

“Whatever, Kathryn. Is that all your news?”

“Yes,” she said on an exhale. He stared at her for a moment and then stood up. “Chakotay,” she said, but he started walking away from her. “Where are you going?”

“I thought we were done?”

“I - um - I don’t - ” She was uncharacteristically completely lost for words. “What about the appeal,” she finally managed. 

“I don’t really care. We all got what we deserved.” He turned back around and started walking towards the door that would lead back to his cell.

“Chakotay,” she yelled at his back, standing up and trying to follow him.

“Let it go, Kathryn. I don’t need your help. Don’t try to come see me again,” he replied, his back to her.

“Why,” she whispered.

“Because I don’t want to see you anymore.” He turned back around to look at her one last time. “Because all that there has ever been between us is a toxic selfishness that poisons everything it touches. Because we’re not friends, Kathryn. I don’t think we ever were.” 

He turned on his heel and walked out the door, leaving her standing in shock in the middle of the now crowded cafeteria. If Kathryn had been alone, she might have burst into tears. Instead, she pushed all of her feelings deep into her chest and straightened her shoulders. Head held high, she walked out of the room like nothing at all was bothering her. She made it all the way outside before she ordered a site to site transport to her apartment and collapsed onto the floor as she sobbed, drawing herself into a ball. 

In the following weeks, she had tried to contact him several times, convinced that once Seven explained her choice of assignment that he would take back everything that he had said and they could go back to normal. Each attempt was met with silence. After 3 months, she stopped trying. After 5, she had pretty much given up hope of ever seeing him again, much less making up with him and seeing if they could be friends. All that was left was convincing her heart to let go of him. She had to let him go. She wouldn’t survive if she didn’t.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hang in, everybody. The next few chapters will have some hard, heavy stuff in them. Keep the faith.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A very small section of this chapter that occurs in Astrometrics has all it's dialogue (5 lines) taken word for word from the episode Endgame. It serves only to set the stage for where the story is in the timeline of the show, but those lines are clearly not original to my head. I'm not trying to take credit for them by including them here :)

_He in his madness prays for storms, and dreams that storms will bring him peace. - Mikhail Lermontov_

**May 18, 2379**

On the other side of the bulkhead, Chakotay stalked back into the cargo bay and searched quickly for an unclaimed area of floor. No one had moved to sit where he had dropped himself earlier after handing Kathryn off to Mike and so he returned to that spot, drawing his legs to his chest so that his head could rest on his knees. 

_Couldn’t just let her fall. Just this once. You’d still be down there and she would be up here with her crazy plan and we could have both finally, finally moved on from this thing that’s between us. But no. You had to catch her._

He sighed into his knees. There had been a time in his life when he had believed that she was the thing that he had been looking for his whole life. She made him better. He was a better leader, a better friend, a better man when he was with her. More than this, she seemed to brew a peace in him that he had never been able to discover on his own. A short time into their voyage, he had realized that he had fallen madly, deeply in love with her. For a time, he had been fairly certain that she felt the same. But, as the months in the Delta Quadrant turned into a year, and that year turned into two, into three, into four, looking more and more like possibly forever, that had all changed.

If he had to try and pinpoint it, he had believed that her feelings for him had died in their fifth year in the Delta Quadrant. There had been something between them at dinner the night before the test of the slipstream drive - a hope and a promise that had faded into a small ember in the depths of their souls suddenly blazed back to life. But it had been snuffed out completely the next day when they hadn’t made it home. He could never forget the sudden sharp emptiness in her eyes when he and Harry had returned to the bridge. She’d done her best to comfort Harry - told him that it had been well worth it, even if it hadn’t managed to actually get them home - but when she had looked at Chakotay across the dinner table that night he had seen defeat and resignation and hopelessness in her before she had put her command mask back on. Only emptiness remained. 

As the years passed, she didn’t always look empty. Sometimes she looked at him with caring eyes, eyes full of concern or happiness or amusement. Sometimes they blazed with anger or indignation; other times they brimmed with hurt or sadness. But never love. Never again. 

It had taken him an embarrassingly long time to accept the fact that it wasn’t ever coming back. That she wasn’t just hiding it deeper inside herself as a way to protect her heart. Her love had died. 

Eventually, he had come to accept it. Kathryn was his friend, his partner, his captain, and that was all. He tried to let her go. Tried to move on. Tried to be satisfied with what they had and not long for what she wasn’t able to give him. Those last years had been a particularly hard stretch in the journey and, bizarrely, that helped. They had made hard decisions, had hard arguments, had cheated death and disaster over and over again, each experience chipping away at the fragile love he had still harbored in his soul. 

The final nail in the coffin of their love for him had ironically come out of the mouth of her past self. When the Kathryn who hadn’t met him yet had looked at him, eyes full of curiosity and unmistakable longing and none of the heaviness and pain and regret that seemed to be what he saw in his Kathryn most often, it had been like being torn open. When she had asked him what they were to each other in the future, it had driven the nail in. They were nothing. Perhaps, not nothing but not what this Kathryn clearly somehow wanted. Not what he had wanted for so long. Returning to his time, he had believed that he had finally done it. That he had finally gotten over Kathryn Janeway. She’d given up on them and let him go. He had finally done the same. 

Or so he had thought.

**One Year Earlier - May 6, 2378  
**

Chakotay strolled down the corridor headed for Astrometrics. He was surprised to discover that he had a spring in his step despite the fact that they were about to enter a nebula full of Borg ships. Borg ships who all knew that they were coming. Who knew that _Voyager_ was going to attempt to deal a crippling blow to their transwarp network and get back to the Alpha Quadrant simultaneously. 

He was finally happy, he realized. It had taken a long time. Far longer than it probably should have, if he was honest. He had finally given up on being anything but friends with Kathryn and opened his heart to new possibilities. The fact that it was Seven who had wandered into his affections had been one of the more significant shocks of his life. 

He had been flabbergasted when she had asked him to “socialize romantically.” It had taken him 15 full seconds to even process that she meant a date. He had accepted in a daze and then attended more out of curiosity than anything else. What he had found on that date had been even more surprising. Seven had been different. More relaxed and less sure of herself. It had been endearing. They had played three games of Velocity in a best two out three tournament which she had won narrowly and then he had wiped the floor with her at Hoverball. When he had walked her back to the cargo bay, he had made her laugh. 

They had been on three more dates since - two and half really, since the appearance of the Admiral had caused a rude interruption in their dinner date. He wasn’t ready to say that he was in love with Seven or anything, but he was definitely enjoying their fledgling relationship and was excited to see where it would lead them. 

Arriving in Astrometrics, he found Seven facing away from him, monitoring the nebula on her screen. 

“Any word from the Admiral,” he asked, hoping to get business out of the way quickly.

“We lost contact as soon as she entered the hub,” Seven returned shortly, barely twisting her head over her shoulder. 

“Did the Borg give her any trouble?” He leaned against the console, one hand on his hip. _She seems strange_ , he thought.

“Her vessel was scanned by several cubes, but none approached her. Sir.” He could tell that the “sir” was an afterthought but it stung nonetheless. 

“Are we keeping things professional again today,” he asked, hoping that his joking tone would snap her out of whatever this was. It did not. 

When he emerged from Astrometrics several minutes later, he was livid. He had managed to convince Seven that what the Admiral had told her about the future didn’t need to affect what was going on between them. He had explained that risk was a part of any emotional endeavor and hoped that he had made her understand that he was more than willing to accept those risks to experience what was going on between them. But he couldn’t stop himself from being so incredibly angry with the Admiral. _How could Kathryn do this? How could she ever have become that woman_ , he thought as he quickly traversed the corridors that would lead him back to the bridge. He could only think of one reason that the Admiral would have told Seven something about the future. She must have wanted to break them apart, but he couldn’t think of a single reason why. 

When he arrived on the bridge, he put it out of his mind. There were more important things to focus on, like destroying the Borg hub and getting _Voyager_ through the conduit in one piece. Everything went mostly according to plan and suddenly, they were home. Admittedly, arriving home concealed in a Borg sphere had not been a part of the original idea, but that was beside the point. After 7 long years, they had done it. She had done it. Kathryn had gotten them home. 

Hours later, exhausted from the stress and the elation and the shock of being suddenly home, he had arrived in his quarters. He knew that he should start packing, but he really just wanted to sleep for 10 or 15 hours. Pulling off his boots, he made his way toward his bedroom but stopped short when he heard a soft beep from the console on the desk. He had a message. _It won’t be important_ , his mind told him. _If it was important, the person would have commed you._ But for some reason, he couldn’t stop himself. 

He wandered over to the desk and turned the console to face him. There was only one unplayed message in his inbox. The sender was Kathryn Janeway. Curious now, he tapped the play button, then rested both hands on the desk top so he was leaned slightly forward, not bothering to swing around to the other side to sit. It was a decision that he regretted immediately when it wasn’t his Kathryn’s face that appeared. The message was from the Admiral.

“Hello, Chakotay,” she started. “I’m sure that you are surprised to be receiving this and are probably wondering why I’m sending it. Well, the truth is that I need to tell you something about the future - about your future - and I have realized that I am simply not going to be able to find the time to do it in person. We’re headed back to the nebula as I record this, thus a message will simply have to do. So, in the event that you haven’t already turned this off in some perverse sense of duty to the Temporal Prime Directive, here’s what I have to say. I’ve mentioned something about the future to Seven and to Kathryn. Something that affects the three of you. But I didn’t tell them the whole truth. It wasn’t something that either of them needed to know and wouldn’t do any more to convince them to do as I asked, so I decided against causing them unnecessary pain. But you need to know the whole truth.” She took a deep breath and Chakotay took advantage of the pause to spin the console back and round the desk to drop heavily into the chair before she continued.

“In my timeline, you and Seven started dating around this time. Your relationship grew and progressed, and 2 years from now, you married her. Your marriage was - ” she paused as though she was about to say a word that she didn’t want to say and was looking for literally anything else to call it. “Troubled,” she finished finally. “It had seemed like a good idea to you at the time, but you both wanted different things. The real sticking point for you ended up being children. You wanted them. Seven didn’t. You both thought that the other would change their mind. After 6 months, it was clear that neither of you would budge. You fought. Often. And not just about that. One night after a particularly bad fight with her, you showed up outside my quarters.” He watched her eyes close and her face contort as she lived in the memory for a moment. _I should turn this off. I don’t want to know the rest. I know enough._ But he couldn’t make his arms move. The message continued to play. 

“You were angry. So, so angry. You raged at me, told me that you had been a fool to marry her, blamed me for not telling you as much myself. I should have kicked you out then.” She shook her head in regret. “Should have sent you back to her. Told you that you were a grown man who made his bed and summarily showed you the door. But I didn’t. Because I wanted to fight. I wanted to rage at you, too. So I called you an idiot and agreed with you. I told you that you shouldn’t have married her. Accused you of making important life decisions with your dick instead of your head. Said that I hadn’t said anything to you before because you hadn’t asked my opinion about anything that mattered to you in years.”

Chakotay paused the playback and exhaled loudly. He really should just stop this now. What was she going to tell him? That he ruined his marriage with unreasonable expectations and then yelled at Kathryn so much that he ruined their friendship too? He didn’t need to hear the rest. _Yes, you do_ , a small voice insisted. As if of their own volition, his fingers pressed play. 

“I went too far,” she continued. “Pushed too hard. You were on this emotional knife’s edge and I should have seen that but I didn’t. You went to pieces in my living room. Sobbed on the floor and all I could do was hold you and tell you I was sorry and try to say nice things about you and Seven together.” This time it was she who paused, taking a deep breath. She looked like she was bracing herself for something, like the worst was yet to come. 

“I’m still not entirely sure how it happened,” she finally continued. “One second you were sobbing into my shoulder and the next, you were kissing me. I should have stopped you, but I didn’t. I kissed you back instead. I think you can figure out what happened next.”

“No,” he whispered, shaking his head. He wanted to turn it off, wanted to go back in time and have decided to not watch it at all, but he was frozen in place, staring in horror as she continued.

“I know you won’t want to believe it. That you won’t want to believe that either of us could do that to Seven, to each other. But we did. More than once. More than just that night. It wasn’t just a single desperate indiscretion. It was an affair and it went on for weeks.”

He slammed the pause button so hard that he almost broke the console. He stood up and stalked through his quarters, heading for his bedroom simply because it was as far away as he could get from her words. Chakotay found himself in his bathroom, gripping the sides of his sink with both hands and staring at his reflection. 

“It’s not possible,” he told himself. “She’s lying to you. You don’t want each other like that anymore. Neither of you could ever do that, even if you did.” 

He could maybe believe that it could happen once out of desperation and emotions running high. But an affair? An affair would require planning and effort. He knew that for him, it would require that he had feelings for the other person, feelings that could overcome a promise he made to someone else. And Kathryn? The woman who had remained steadfastly loyal to Mark until her letter from home revealed that he had moved on; who had refused to allow herself anything but the smallest scraps of happiness in the seven years he had known her. This Kathryn was supposed to willingly be party to an affair? To a liaison that would hurt someone she considered practically a daughter? Impossible. He splashed some water on his face and then squared his shoulders. He might as well see how her message ended. It was all fiction anyway. 

He sat back down behind the desk and took a deep, steadying breath. Finally, he pressed play. 

“It all came to an end when I sent an away team down to a planet to do a survey of some dilithium deposits we found in some caves,” she continued. “The weather on the planet was unpredictable. Plasma storms were common on the surface and we had registered some tectonic activity, as well. The caves were deep underground and the dilithium that ran through the strata interfered with out transporters, even on the surface. The away team would have to take a shuttle down and their only way back would be to return the same way. You thought it was too great a risk for too little reward. I disagreed and Harry and B’Elanna assured me that the readings we had taken showed large deposits that we desperately needed. I overruled your objection and sent a team anyway. Seven was the leader.” She ran her hands through her snow white hair. Chakotay found it deeply unsettling to see an action that was so familiar be performed by someone who felt so utterly foreign. 

“They had been down there less than an hour when a huge earthquake rocked the continent. There was a cave-in. Seven was seriously injured and by the time the team could get back to us, she was already gone. Her injuries were such that even the nanoprobes couldn’t bring her back. You held her lifeless body in your arms and begged her to come back to you. Apologized countless times. Told her that you had never loved anyone else like you loved her.” She smiled at the screen painfully. 

“You came to me later and told me it was over. Accused me of sending her down to her death on purpose. Said you’d never forgive me for taking her away. We were never the same. You were never the same.” He released a breath that he didn’t even know he was holding. He had destroyed them all. He and Kathryn. 

“You are probably wondering why I told you this. Why I would burden you with this knowledge, when your future will hopefully be entirely different.” She grabbed the corner of her lower lip with her teeth, looking down from the console, eyes fixed on the table in front of her. Finally, she looked back up, eyes boring into his through the screen. “You need to know because it could still happen. You need to know that she still loves you. You think she’s stopped. You think that, because that’s what she wants.” Her voice broke, just for a second and in that moment, she looked exactly like his Kathryn again. The illusion took his breath away. 

“Loving you but not having you was too hard, Chakotay. All of it was too difficult to deal with. So she’s done what I did. She has it buried so deep that you think it doesn’t exist anymore. A part of her believes that it’s gone, as well. She thinks that it doesn’t exist. But I can tell you that it does. And I can tell you that if you still love her at all, that there may come a time when you need her and she won’t be strong enough to keep pushing her feelings for you away. When you will have to be the one who finds the ability to be strong. Because if you aren’t, if you can’t be strong enough, the love between the two of you will become toxic and you will destroy each other.” Suddenly she looked up at something past the screen and he heard his Kathryn’s voice in her quarters. 

“We’re here. Are you ready,” she asked.

“In just a minute,” the Admiral replied. She looked back down at the screen, again staring straight at him. “Think about what I said.” Her eyes flicked back up to where he knew his Kathryn must be standing, even though he couldn’t see her. “About everything,” she finished pointedly. “Goodbye. And good luck. Janeway out.” 

The screen faded to black and the words END OF MESSAGE flashed on the screen. Chakotay sat back in the chair and sighed heavily. He wasn’t sure how long he sat there in silence, staring at the blank screen, but it was long enough for the console to return to sleep and for his back to start to protest the unusual angle he was sitting at. Finally standing, he wandered back into his bedroom, slowly undressing as he went. As he laid down in bed, he finally forced himself to confront what had just happened. 

_She says that Kathryn still loves you_. A lie. It had to be. He had watched her for close to two years. He was sure - as sure as he could be without being able to read her mind - that she did not harbor those feelings for him anymore. 

_She says they are buried deep._ So deep that she would sleep with a hologram? Betray that love with Kashyk? Put him in the brig because he stopped her from killing Lessing to get to Ransom? Impossible. 

_Do you still love her?_ Looking for the answer to that question kept him awake all night. 

By the time morning came, he decided that he was sure. He did not still love Kathryn Janeway. She was his friend and so of course he cared deeply about her. But it wasn’t love that flowed between them. Not anymore. And since it wasn’t love, he wasn’t going to think about the Admiral’s message again. 

He had tried so hard to not think about it. 

He had tried to not think about it when he told Kathryn about his relationship with Seven after she had agreed to continue it once they reached Earth. 

He had tried to ignore it when what he saw on her face was resignation and heartbreak for the very smallest of seconds before she had forced herself to put on something more closely resembling joy. 

He had tried to pretend that he didn’t see her face light up with actual joy when she saw him the first time after he was arrested. 

He had tried to brush off how tightly she had held him when she hugged him goodbye, righteous fury blazing in her eyes, as she had promised him that she wouldn’t rest until her whole crew was free. 

But by her third visit to him at the detention center, he couldn’t deny it any longer. He was wrong. Kathryn Janeway still loved him. He had just given up too soon. 

For months, he hadn’t been sure what to do with that information. He still believed that he wasn’t in love with her anymore. He was also still technically seeing Seven, although she had only been to visit him twice since he had been arrested. Kathryn hadn’t missed a single week, not even when she had walking pneumonia in November and he had to tell her that he wouldn’t talk to her anymore until she went and got a treatment for it. Seven wrote him constantly, but it just wasn’t the same as seeing her. She always had a reason for not coming to visiting hours. An appointment or a trip off world that couldn’t be put off. But by December, her letters slowed and he could feel Seven pulling away from him.

Under normal circumstances, he would have just let it happen. They hadn’t really been together that long. In fact, they had only managed to actually go on a total of about 10 dates before Starfleet had arrested him. After the pneumonia incident, he had also finally been forced to admit to himself that he was still in love with Kathryn. 

The problem was that he couldn’t get the Admiral’s message out of his mind. He had only watched it once, deleting it from his console in the morning and scrubbing the communications logs so that no one would even see that she had sent it. It hadn’t mattered. The message had burned itself into his mind and he couldn’t forget it. 

_You and Seven got married. She didn’t want children. You and Kathryn had an affair that destroyed you all. Your love was toxic._

Toxic. It was the word that ran through his mind endlessly. Would it be that way no matter what? He hadn’t married Seven. If they ended things, could he and Kathryn come together without it destroying them? Or was that toxicity the reason that he and Seven weren’t working? Perhaps it had already started poisoning things and he just hadn’t realized it. 

The matter was decided in the first week of December when a communication from Seven arrived. It was a video message rather than a letter, which should have been his first clue that something big had happened. He pressed play and Seven’s face appeared on his screen.

“Hello, Chakotay,” she started with a small smile. “I hope that you are well. I understand from Admiral Janeway that the appeals for the Maquis are in consideration to be heard by the Supreme Court and so I am sure that pleases you.” She paused for a moment, and seemed uncharacteristically uncertain as to how to proceed.

“I hope that you do not mind that I am not sending a letter this week. It seemed more - appropriate - to talk to you like this.” He had never seen her struggle with words like this. Whatever she had to say was big. 

“I have some news,” she continued. “Admiral Janeway informed me that the Vulcan Academy will be researching Borg regeneration and I have agreed to assist in their endeavors. She believes that I will be well suited to both the research and the Academy, as I worked well with Commander Tuvok while on _Voyager_. Being one of only two former Borg in the Alpha Quadrant would seem to qualify me, as well.” A small smile crossed her face, showing her amusement at her joke, but then her face fell suddenly. “The research will be taking place on Vulcan and so I will be relocating. Unfortunately, it will mean that I will be even less able to communicate with you. The Admiral assures me that she will keep me updated on your situation and that she will arrange for a transport back to Earth whenever I have need of it.” She stopped again, fiddling with her hands.

“I know that this is not an ideal circumstance for the furtherance of our romantic relationship. But, I have been reflecting lately that perhaps it would be best if we agreed to step back for a time, at least until your situation has been resolved. I hope that you will understand. Goodbye, Chakotay.” 

He should have felt relieved. Seven had effectively released him. But he couldn’t stop thinking about something that she said. _Admiral Janeway informed me_ , his brain repeated over and over. Had it been intentional? Had Kathryn been quietly interfering with their relationship this whole time? In all their conversations, she had rarely mentioned Seven, but this communication seemed to suggest that the two of them had been working closely together for a while. Was she sending Seven away on purpose? Her future self said that he had accused her of sending Seven on that away mission intentionally. Was this simply their version of that future? A version where their infidelity was emotional rather than physical and Kathryn’s betrayal led only to Seven being sent away rather than dying? 

She had come to see him the next day and he had seen it in her eyes again. Love. Love for him. _Did you do this, Kathryn_ , he thought to himself. _Have we already become something toxic without even knowing it?_ Suddenly it dawned on him like he had been struck by lightening. _This is the moment she warned you about. When you will want nothing more than to have her and you have to be the strong one. End it now. End it before you destroy each other._ She asked him a question. Started repeating what she had been saying.

“I heard,” he answered, not able to meet her eyes yet. _You have to hurt her. Hurt her so badly she won’t come back._ He dug deep down inside while he was talking and found the anger that always burned there. It was time. There could be no turning back. 

“Your best friend? Oh, Kathryn, we aren’t friends.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one is so long! I had a lot of ground to cover. I'll be less long winded next chapter hopefully!


	10. Chapter 10

_Too much sanity may be madness. - Dale Wasserman_

**May 18, 2379**

Gretchen Janeway was on her way outside to garden when she heard the console in her kitchen beep to notify her that she had a message. Hoping that it might be Katie telling her what time she was arriving for the weekend, she stalled her progress outside and entered the kitchen. She pressed the autoplay button on the console as she passed and went to get a bottle of water out of the refrigerator. 

“Hi Mom,” Katie’s voice said. The tone she was using made Gretchen instantly uncomfortable and she whirled around to watch her daughter’s face. “If you are receiving this message then it means that Tom and I managed to do what needed to be done.”

She dropped heavily into one of the chairs at the kitchen table. “Oh, Katie. What have you done?”

Ten minutes later, the Paris’ console started ringing incessantly. Julia Paris groaned and covered her head with her pillow. Like it wasn’t enough that the damn thing had woken her up at 6 am when someone sent them a message. Now someone was actually calling at this time of the morning? _This should be illegal_ , she thought. “Owen,” she yelled towards the bathroom. 

“What,” she heard him answer through the door.

“The console’s ringing!”

“Can you answer it? I’m shaving.”

Sighing heavily, she swung out of bed and walked over to the wall. “This damn well better be important,” she mumbled as she pressed the button to answer. “Gretchen,” she said more loudly, the surprise clearly apparent in her voice. 

“Julia, is Owen there?”

“Yes, but he’s shaving. Is there something -”

“Could you get him, please,” Gretchen interrupted. “Tell him it’s important. Starfleet business.”

“Okay,” Julia said uncertainly. “Hang on.” She walked back across the bedroom. “Darling, it’s Gretchen. She says she needs to speak with you right away. Starfleet business.”

The door opened immediately and Admiral Paris emerged, still in his undershirt with half his face covered in shaving cream. 

“Did you say Gretchen,” he asked curiously. She nodded and he strode across the room into frame. 

“Gretchen, what’s go - ”

“Owen, do you know where Tom is?”

“Tom? He’s on Mars with Katie. What’s this about?”

“Is Miral with you?”

“No,” Julia chimed in. “Tom sent Harry Kim to pick her up a few days ago. Her other grandfather is going to be on Mars this week and wanted to meet her.” 

“Oh, dear god.” Owen watched Gretchen run her hand across her face in exactly the same way that Katie always did when she was stressed. “Owen, Katie and Tom - I think they’ve done something. Something foolish.”

“What do you mean,” he answered, suddenly very concerned about where this conversation was going.

“Katie sent me a message a few minutes ago. She said that if I was receiving it, that she and Tom had already managed to do something. She said it would correct an injustice. That people would think they had gone insane. Owen, it was a goodbye.”

Julia connected the dots faster than he did and was already pulling up the menu under their call. The message that had woken her this morning was from Tom. 

“We have a message from Tom, too,” she said quickly. “We’ll call you back.” She watched Gretchen nod as she disconnected and then hit play. He son’s face appeared on the screen. 

“Hi, mom. Hi, dad. I’m not exactly sure what to say. I’ve been thinking about it for 4 days and so you would think that I would know where to start and what I need to tell you, but I still don’t.” His parents watched as he sighed heavily and looked down at the desk in front of him. 

“I, um, I guess I know that I’ve always been kind of a disappointment,” he started again, eyes still fixed on the table. “Especially to you, dad. And I’m really sorry. I know you probably don’t think I am,” he said glancing up at them to given them the half smile that they had seen so often when he was a teenager in trouble, “but I am.” He looked away again, up towards the ceiling this time, and appeared to close his eyes. He groaned and then looked directly into their eyes.

“This is all wrong. Let me start again. I’m leaving you this message to tell you that I love you. By the time you get this, Kathryn and I will be gone and you are going to be left with a lot of questions. I wish that I could answer them all for you in person, but I’m afraid that’s going to be impossible. I know you might not understand why we chose to do this. I can only tell you that we decided that we couldn’t just abandon the people that we cared about.” 

Owen and Julia looked at each other in horror. “What has he done, Owen,” Julia asked quietly. Owen only shushed her and turned his eyes back to the message from his son. 

“Believe me when I tell you that if there had been any other way, anything else that we could have done instead, we would have done it. I know you might not believe that coming from me - you know, because of my track record with bad decisions - but even Kathryn is on board with this, so that should tell you something. I don’t regret what we’ve done. I couldn’t leave B’Elanna to rot and miss all of Miral’s life.” His eyes widened as though something had just dawned on him. 

“Unfortunately, it means that you guys will be the ones who miss her life. And for that I am so, so sorry. We’ll tell her about you. About how much you love her. She’ll never wonder about that and she’ll know that you were the best grandparents in the world for the short time that you got to be with her. I love you both.” Tom’s hand moved forward, like he was going to end the recording when he paused. 

“And dad? I really do mean it. I’m sorry that I was never the son that you wanted. I know that we never really saw eye to eye about most things, but I hope that you can respect the choice that I made today - to stick by the people who are important to me - even if you don’t agree with our methods. I’m - I’m proud to be your son. Goodbye.”

Owen and Julia stood in their bedroom in shocked silence for a full 10 seconds. 

“Get Gretchen back,” Owen said suddenly. 

“What,” Julia replied numbly. 

“We need to talk to Gretchen now.” He looked at his wife and saw that she was in no place to be able to execute that request and so he quickly keyed in Gretchen’s call code. She answered immediately. 

“What did Tom say,” she said without preamble. 

“Something similar to Kathryn, I gather,” Owen responded. “It’s definitely goodbye.” 

“What do you think they’ve done,” Gretchen asked quietly. 

“It sounded like Tom was anticipating being reunited with B’Elanna, so if I had to hazard a guess, I would say they planned a jail break.” 

“From a Starfleet facility,” Gretchen replied. “Impossible.”

“Never underestimate Katie,” Owen shot back. “Or Tom, for that matter.” 

“What do we do,” Julia finally chimed in. 

“I have a plan. Gretchen how much do you remember about Starfleet computer code?”

“Enough,” she replied quickly. “You can’t write holoprograms without a pretty firm grasp.”

“Good. You have to modify the watch receipt on Katie’s message. Make it look like you haven’t seen it yet. I’ll do the same thing with Tom’s on our side.” Gretchen nodded quickly. “And delete the log for this call, but leave the other one. When they ask, you were calling Julia to confirm our plans for the dinner tomorrow night.”

“Right. What do I tell them when they ask why I didn’t watch Katie’s message when I went to call Julia?” 

“The dog got out just as you signed off and you forgot all about it,” he suggested. 

“That’s good,” she said slowly. “Yeah, I can make that work.” She nodded once. “I should go. Thank you, Owen.” And with that, she was gone. 

He immediately went to work on the code, modifying the message so that it said it hadn’t been viewed. Then he quickly scrubbed the call log of their return call to Gretchen.

“Will you please explain to me what we’re doing,” Julia asked testily. 

“Giving us plausible deniability when Section 31 questions us as to why we didn’t immediately contact Starfleet Command when we saw Tom’s message,” he replied. 

“Why,” she asked more insistently. 

“Because if we didn’t see it now, then that means we can give them as big a head start as possible without implicating ourselves and making them have to stage another jail break to get us out.”

“A jail break? Owen, we don’t even know if that’s what they’re planning!”

“Yes, we do,” he said, his eyes fixed in the console. A news bulletin flashed on the screen, displaying photos of Kathryn and Tom side by side. Over their heads were the words:   
**WANTED FOR QUESTIONING IN CONNECTION WITH ESCAPE OF FORMER MAQUIS FROM FEDERATION DETENTION CENTER**

“Get back in bed,” he said quietly. “Section 31 should be here any minute.” 

**6 Weeks Earlier - April 5, 2379  
**

“Tom, you have to get out of bed.”

“I think you’ll find that I don’t,” he said rolling over to face away from the intruder. 

“Miral wants to play with you.”

“She’s not even one yet; she doesn’t play.”

“Tom, please.”

He rolled back over and looked at his father. Admiral Paris was staring at his son with concern, something that was rather uncharacteristic in Tom’s experience. 

“Fine,” he sighed. He pushed himself up into a sitting position and then finally swung his legs over the side of the bed. Just that had taken a significant effort and so he stayed seated for a few seconds before he attempted to stand. Everything seemed to exhaust him lately. Just the process of getting up and getting ready for the day took all of his energy for at least an hour. For the most part, he had just stopped doing those things entirely. His mom came to pick up Miral every morning, just like she had when he hadn’t been calling out of work every single day, and so there ordinarily wasn’t a reason to even move. But instead of this usual routine, today, he had been rudely awakened by his father. He ran his hand across his face, feeling the weeks old beard and suddenly realized that he couldn’t remember the last time he brushed his teeth. His mouth tasted awful. 

Pushing himself up off the bed, he walked into the bathroom and put toothpaste on his toothbrush. As he started brushing, he glanced up at the mirror and saw his dad standing in the doorway, arms folded, still looking at him with - fear, maybe? - on his face. He spat into the sink and ran his tongue along his teeth. They felt much better clean. He turned to face his father. 

“Your mother and I are worried about you,” he started abruptly. 

“Why,” Tom asked, walking back into the bedroom and digging through his drawers to find pants and a shirt. 

“Because we think you’re depressed,” his father said softly. 

“Whatever makes you think that,” he quipped sarcastically. Of course he was depressed. He looked like a walking advertisement advocating for the use of antidepressants. 

“Watch your tone,” the Admiral shot back. 

“I’m not your subordinate, dad; I’m your son.” 

“All the more reason for you to be respectful.” Tom stared at his father in silence. They had had this argument over and over again. He trying to be funny or being hurt and lashing out, his father lecturing him on the appropriateness of his tone. 

_You’ll never make a good officer if you mouth off to your CO!_

_Sass isn’t an acceptable trait for a Starfleet officer, Thomas._

_This isn’t a joking matter._

_Aren’t you ever serious about anything, Tom?_

He had heard them all hundreds of times growing up. He had kind of hoped that he had put all that behind him after the Delta Quadrant. His commission had been reinstated, he had gotten married, had a baby, was instrumental in getting Voyager all the way across the DQ and home in one piece. He had hoped that maybe that would be enough to finally prove that he was enough to his father. That he wasn’t just a fuck up. Clearly, he was wrong. 

“All right, I’m up. Now can you please take Miral with you and go,” he said after a long awkward silence. 

“Tom, your mother and I think that you need to talk to someone about this.”

“I’m fine, dad.”

“You are clearly not fine,” his father insisted. “They tell me that you haven’t reported to work in two weeks.” 

“They have other test pilots,” he snapped. “I think I deserve to be able to grieve this. They took the woman I love away. Left my child without her mother. The least that Starfleet can do for me is let me mourn!” His father stared at him in silence. 

“This isn’t mourning, it’s wallowing, Tom,” he finally said, dropping the sentence into the room like a grenade. 

“Wallowing,” Tom drawled, his voice dangerously low. 

“We have to carry on, Tom. There’s nothing you can do about what’s happened.” 

“Wallowing,” he repeated again. “He’s says I’m wallowing,” he announced to the room sarcastically. “Because I should be over it in two weeks, right dad? I should just accept that the love of my life will be in prison for her daughter’s entire childhood? For the best years of her life? That Starfleet decided to take the most brilliant engineer that it’s had since Montgomery Scott and send her to NEW ZEALAND?” He waved his arm and accidentally knocked a lamp off his bedside table. It hit the wall and shattered into a million pieces. 

“But I should have moved on! Hell, I should already be dating again! Find myself a nice girl who isn’t a criminal and isn’t half-klingon!”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it, Tom,” Owen started angrily, before Tom interrupted him. 

“Get out.”

“Tom - ”

“I said. Get. The Fuck. Out.” For a second, it looked like his father was going to stay and fight him, but the moment passed and he watched Owen’s shoulders drop in resignation. 

“I’ll bring Miral back tonight,” he said as he turned to walk out the door. 

“Fine,” Tom answered shortly. 

Owen swept out of his son’s bedroom and into the living room where he had left Miral in her play pen. Scooping her up, he pulled her tight to his chest before placing a quick kiss on her her tiny forehead. She was his first granddaughter and he adored her with every fiber of his being. Picking up her bag from the floor, he started walking toward the door while he spoke quietly to the little girl in his arms. 

“I’m sorry about the yelling, little lady,” he mumbled into her dark curly hair. “Your daddy and I never have managed to actually be able to talk to each other. We always seem to end up here.” He sighed and looked down into the big brown eyes that were watching his face. 

“I really am sorry about what happened with your mama, you know,” he said to her in a soft voice. “I didn’t know her very well, but your daddy loves her with every fiber of his being and that means that she must be wonderful. You look so much like her.” He heard Tom moving around in the bedroom and decided that he and Miral better head out. He would have to patch things up with Tom later. “Come on, peanut. Let’s go find Grandma.” Miral let out a delighted squeal and he shut the front door behind them. 

Tom had sunk back down onto the bed as soon as his father had left the bedroom. He listened as his dad picked up Miral, could hear him whispering something to her as he took his sweet time getting everything together. Tom sighed loudly, hoping to light a fire under his father, and then flung himself back towards his pillow. Pain was the sensation that greeted him. Cursing under his breath, he sat back up with a jolt, rubbing his temple as he felt a small trickle of blood running down his face. Finding the wound, he pulled something out of it and brought it forward to examine it. _A piece of ceramic_ , he thought. _How the hell did a piece of ceramic end up - the lamp._ He turned around and saw that pieces of ceramic and glass covered the bed on that side. 

“When it rains, it fucking pours,” he mumbled under his breath. Standing back up, he started brushing the pieces off the bed before he realized that he would have to strip the bed to be sure that he got them all. As he pulled the comforter and then the sheets off the mattress, he finally heard the front door open then close as his father left. Breathing a small sigh of relief, he grabbed the laundry and carried it into the recycler and then replicated a new set. He placed the sheets on the stripped mattress and then decided that he needed to clean up the floor before he slept again. He didn’t want to take the chance that Miral would end up with one of the shards in her feet. He got out the broom and started to sweep, moving the bedside table so that he could get the pieces that had fallen behind it. 

That was when he saw it. On the ground behind the table was an isolinear chip. He picked it up off the floor in a daze. He had forgotten all about it. B’Elanna had showed it to him on the day that they had moved in. She had said that the Admiral gave it to her just before boarding her shuttle and heading into the nebula. _She called it a contingency plan_ , he heard B’Elanna say in his head. _Said we might need it for later. I haven’t had a chance to look at it yet._ He had pulled it out of her hand and put it on the table, deciding that christening their new bed was more important than some map or knowledge that the Admiral thought they needed to know. It must have fallen behind the table and they had both forgotten all about it. 

His grandmother had said that the Parises had the gift of sight. That they were able to see things happening that other people didn’t. She had always claimed that what she saw were possibilities. A funny tingle had started at the base of his skull the moment that he had seen the chip. He wasn’t sure what was on it yet, but as he wandered out into the living room to find the console, he understood what his grandmother meant. The chip felt like possibilities. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if this was a little bit of a deviation from the main story. It's gonna prove important later.


	11. Chapter 11

_Men have called me mad; but the question is not yet settled, whether madness is or is not the loftiest intelligence. - Edgar Allan Poe_

**May 18, 2379**

The trip to Epsilon IV proved shockingly uneventful. 

Kathryn had remained in the cockpit, taking the first shift at the conn, while Tom and B’Elanna mingled in the cargo bay with the other Maquis. People dropped in occasionally to chat with her and Mike had even replicated a deck of cards and spent an hour teaching her how to play Gin Rummy. After 8 hours in the chair, Tom arrived to relieve her.

“I’m here for you,” he said with a small smile. 

“Well, I have nothing to report, Mr. Paris. No sign of ships following us on long range sensors and all systems seem to be operating perfectly. We built a pretty great ship, if I do say so myself.” She stood up from the pilot’s seat and stretched her back and neck, hearing satisfying pops as her bones realigned themselves. As she turned to go, she paused. 

“You know, Tom, I can stay. It’s not like there’s anything going on up here. You should go be with B’Elanna.” She started to come back towards the helm when he swung around in the seat. 

“Absolutely not,” he replied. “Go socialize, Kathryn. They all want to see you.”

“But -”

“No ‘buts’! You need to go spend some time with the people you just left your whole life behind to save,” he finished with more tenderness. 

“Okay. For a little while. I don’t know that I’ll give you the full 8 hours,” she finally agreed resignedly. She turned and headed back towards the cargo bay. 

“And eat something,” she heard him yell as she crossed into the back. She rolled her eyes and bit back a retort as she entered the hold. 

For the most part, people had broken up into small groups, talking quietly or playing games together. Mike had started what looked like a poker tournament with Chell, Dalby, and O’Donnell in the far corner, and B’Elanna was standing over them watching the action. Smithee, Jor and Yosa had claimed one of the bench seats and were deep in conversation to her right and Tabor appeared to be asleep on the bench next to them. In the center of the room, Murphy, Henley, and Gerron were on the floor playing kadis-kot. She flicked her eyes to her left and saw that Chakotay had returned to the floor near the storage tanks where she had seen him earlier. He had his knees drawn up to his chest with his arms draped across them. His head was resting against the bulkhead and he looked to be asleep. 

Leaving Tabor to his rest, she wandered over to join the group on the bench. 

“How are you feeling, Captain? I mean, Admiral,” Smithee asked quietly as she approached.

“It’s just Kathryn now, Anne,” she returned with a small smile. “And I’m just fine, thank you. How are you all doing? Have you eaten?”

“A few hours ago,” Jor volunteered. “Although I was thinking about grabbing a snack soon. Maybe a hot fudge sundae,” she said dreamily.

“Olandra’s just excited to have something other than prison food,” Yosa interjected with a laugh. Kathryn watched him slide an arm around Anne and was happy to see her relax back into his chest as she smiled up at him. 

“Be nice to Lanny,” she said sternly, although there was still a smile in her eyes. “If you’re mean to her, you’ll convince her to go back to Bajor instead of staying with us!”

“So you two have decided to stay on,” Kathryn asked. She was surprised that any of them had made a decision already. She also wondered if that decision would change once they saw the _Fawkes_. 

“Well, Marco and I can’t exactly go back to Earth,” Anne remarked, looking back up at her. “And the Cardassians killed my whole family on Soltok IV years ago.” Kathryn saw a sudden sharp sadness cross her face before it faded to an ache that had been tempered by time. 

“Oh, Anne, I’m so sorry.” She’d had no idea. Kathryn had visited Anne several times over the last year and was ashamed to admit that she hadn’t noticed that she never once mentioned a family. She knew that she hadn’t had other visitors, but she had always assumed that her family was simply off world and couldn’t make the trip to Earth. 

“It’s okay, Cap- Kathryn,” she replied with a sad smile. “It was a long time ago. It’s why I joined the Maquis.” 

Kathryn placed her hand on the other woman’s shoulder and squeezed lightly. “You and Marco are both welcome to stay for as long as you like. You’ll both be welcome additions.” She turned her attention back to Jor. “And you’re considering having us drop you off on Bajor?”

“To help with the rebuilding,” the young woman answered as she nodded the affirmative. “Alik and Gerron have expressed interest, too. I think Gerron will definitely go and Henley may even go with him. She sees him as a little brother, of sorts. Alik and I still have deciding to do. There are so many bad memories for him on Bajor. Many members of his family were killed by Moset there. He isn’t sure that he can find happiness or peace in that place anymore.” 

Kathryn heard something stir beside her and saw Tabor sit up. 

“I heard my name,” he said sleepily. He wiped a hand across his face and came to stand next to Kathryn, facing Jor. He cupped a hand to Olandra’s cheek and leaned down to kiss her gently. “What were you talking about?” 

“What our plans are after we get where we are going,” she answered. “I was telling Kathryn that we aren’t sure if we want to return to Bajor, but that Ral will go and maybe Mariah.” 

He threw a glance over his shoulder and watched the younger man studying the kadis-kot board seriously before finally making a move with an orange disk. Mariah Henley laughed triumphantly, placing a green disk on the board as Gerron groaned. 

“Ral is too young to remember much of the time of the occupation,” he started quietly, turning his attention back to them. “He’s eager to return to his family and to a Bajor ruled by Bajorans. But for those of us who remember what it was like before the Cardassians left - ” 

He paused, as though he couldn’t exactly put into words what he was feeling. Kathryn watched Olandra reach up and grab one of his hands, twining their fingers together. The sight of their interlaced fingers made something inside her ache and she couldn’t stop herself from glancing over her shoulder to where Chakotay sat. He hadn’t moved at all. She shook her head slightly and forced herself to focus. 

“I’m just not sure that it’s worth the heartache of returning home to a world that’s still so broken,” he finally finished. “I’m not even sure there is enough left to rebuild, and even if we do, we’ve just lost so much. It won’t be the same.” He looked at her with confusion and hurt in his eyes. 

“Not the same, no,” Kathryn replied slowly, “but just because it isn’t the same doesn’t mean that it’s worse. It will be very hard for a long time, but to build Bajor back up would be an incredibly noble pursuit. They would be lucky to have both of you to help,” she said with a smile. “And we would be lucky to have you in our group if you decide to stay. You can take as long as you like to decide.” 

He smiled at her gratefully and then tugged gently on the hand that was still laced with Olandra’s. “Come on,” he said playfully. “You’ve been talking about an ice cream sundae for 348 days. Let’s get you one.” She grinned at Kathryn as she let him pull her to her feet and towards the replicator on the other side of the room. 

Kathryn smiled at Smithee and Yosa - _Anne and Marco_ , her brain corrected her - and then wandered over to stand by B’Elanna near the poker game which seemed to be turning more intense by the second. 

“Who’s winning,” she whispered quietly to B’Elanna. 

“Honestly or dishonestly,” B’Elanna mumbled back with a quick grin.

“Either.”

“Well, technically, Mike’s winning,” she whispered, turning slightly toward Kathryn so that the other’s wouldn’t overhear. “But he cheats like the devil. I think Ken is actually doing the best and cheating the least.”

Kathryn glanced down at Dalby as he examined his cards and discarded 2. She watched as he took 2 more cards from the deck and noticed that he palmed a third. Raising an eyebrow, she glanced back at B’Elanna to find her grinning at her. 

“I said ‘cheating the least,’ not ‘not cheating at all,’” she said, stifling a laugh. 

“Do they ever not cheat,” Kathryn asked quietly, feeling her own grin spreading over her face.

“Not at poker,” the younger woman answered. “It’s like a point of pride to see how much you can get away with.”

“Colm, do you ever get the feeling that someone is talking about you,” Mike asked O’Donnell. 

“You know, I do,” he replied, glancing over his shoulder at B’Elanna and Kathryn. “They seem to think that we’re cheating, Mike.”

“I would never suggest such a thing,” B’Elanna deadpanned as she watched Chell casually stretch his neck and take a good long look at Mike’s hand. 

“How about you, Kathryn,” Mike said with a twinkle in his eye. “Do you think that we’re cheating?” She watched him slide a new card from up his sleeve into his hand so quickly that she would have missed it if she hadn’t been looking for it. One of his old cards disappeared up the other sleeve just as quickly. 

“I would never suggest that you gentlemen are anything but honest,” she replied seriously. 

“Well then maybe you’d like to play a hand? I’ll bet you dinner that I can beat you,” he shot back. 

“Not if my life depended on it,” she said with a laugh. Waving at them she turned towards the replicator. Talk of dinner had reminded her that she hadn’t eaten since dinner the previous night. She replicated herself a cup of black coffee and a sandwich and then slid down onto an unoccupied area of the floor. Resting her back against the cage that sectioned off the storage tanks, she tucked into the sandwich with enthusiasm. 

She polished off the sandwich quickly and then picked up the coffee mug from the floor beside her, doing her best to not look across at Chakotay where he sat. Failing, she glanced up and found him in exactly the same position as before. His eyes were closed and as she flicked hers through the room she could see that no one was watching her, so she took the opportunity to really look at him for the first time in 6 months. Well, look at him for the first time while he wasn’t yelling at her. 

She examined his face, more relaxed in sleep and noticed that his hair was starting to go gray at his temples. But his eyebrows were still slightly drawn together, as though there was no real rest to be found, even in sleep. Kathryn wasn’t sure exactly how, but suddenly she became aware of the fact that he wasn’t actually asleep. She wasn’t even sure what made her so sure. He hadn’t moved and his breathing was deep and even, his body relaxed, but she knew. He was awake. And if he was awake, he would feel her watching him. She quickly ripped her eyes from him, her own breathing rapid and uneven and her heart racing as she finally remembered the cup of coffee in her hand.

Wrapping both hands around it and nestling it close to her face, she basked in the warmth of it against her palms and inhaled the aroma. Slowly, she felt herself calm. He hadn’t opened his eyes. He wouldn’t know that it was her that had been watching him. She wouldn’t have to see the anger and the disinterest in his eyes again, at least, for a little while. Kathryn took another deep breath over the cup, holding the breath in her lungs to extend the sensation. She knew deep down in her soul that even if she drank a million cups, she would never ever tire of that smell. Taking a sip, she savored the bitter taste against her tongue. 

“Do you two want to be left alone,” she heard B’Elanna ask from above her. 

Snapping her head up from her cup, she saw that B’Elanna also had a sandwich in her hands and a smirk on her face. _She means you and the coffee. Not you and Chakotay. It’s a joke, Kathryn._

“Hey, no laughing. I haven’t had a cup in hours,” she recovered with a grin. She patted the floor beside her and B’Elanna sat down. They sat in companionable silence while B’Elanna ate, demolishing her sandwich almost as quickly as Kathryn had.

“Tom says the speed that I eat at is unhealthy,” B’Elanna said as she popped the last bite of her sandwich into her mouth. She chewed quickly and swallowed. “But you eat fast too, so maybe he’s just slow.”

“They say that eating more slowly is better for you,” Kathryn admitted, pausing with her coffee halfway to her lips. “I’ve never been able to justify the time though. Besides, I’m not doing it intentionally. That’s just the speed I eat at,” she finished with a shrug. “I try not to worry too much about it.” She downed the last of her coffee and moved to set the mug down beside her.

“So, what the hell happened between you and the old man,” B’Elanna asked abruptly. Kathryn gasped as she choked on the mouthful of coffee that had just tried to make its way to her lungs, instead of her stomach. B’Elanna slapped her on the back as she coughed, waiting patiently for her to settle. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Kathryn finally managed to choke out. She glanced quickly in his direction, but he was still feigning sleep. “Relationships change, B’Elanna. Surely you understand that,” she finished in a more normal voice. 

“Yes, relationships do change and you two have been through a hell of a lot more than most people. But you were always friends and now it’s like he hates you.” 

B’Elanna looked into her face earnestly, searching for truth in her eyes that she refused to impart with her mouth. Kathryn kept her features purposefully schooled, even managing to suppress the flinch that she could feel coming when the words ‘he hates you,’ had left her mouth. 

“Except it’s not even hate,” she continued, pushing Kathryn further. “It’s more like - I don’t even know - disappointment? Fear? There’s anger there definitely, but it’s more like self-loathing than hate. So I’ll ask again - what the fuck happened?” She stared defiantly into her former captain’s eyes, daring her to lie or to yell or to react in some way. But it wasn’t that easy to get at Kathryn Janeway. 

“Nothing happened, B’Elanna. We drifted apart. As you pointed out, we went through a lot of things together - many of them are things we would rather forget. Is it so hard to believe that it was just easier and healthier for us to let each other go?” Her face was purposefully impassive as she tried desperately to make the other woman believe that what had happened to them wasn’t heartbreaking - that it didn’t hurt as badly today as it had on the day that he ended their friendship. 

“I know you fought, Kathryn,” B’Elanna whispered quietly. “While we were in detention, before you stopped visiting him. Mike heard the whole thing.” 

“So it was a violent drift.”

“Kathryn - ”

“Everyone processes trauma differently,” she interrupted. “When Chakotay finally had the time to process his, he saw that he needed distance in our friendship. I chose to respect that.” She paused, dropping her voice lower into a register that every member of her crew recognized as the voice she used at her most terrifying. “And don’t think that I don’t know that you’re the reason he’s still onboard, B’Elanna.”

“He was being a jackass,” the younger woman said defensively. 

“Jackass or not, you should have respected his choice. Now I’m the one dealing with the fallout from your decision.” Kathryn watched as B’Elanna warred with her emotions, defiance finally settling onto the younger woman’s face. 

“I don’t regret it,” she said as she stood up, abruptly ending their conversation. She started to walk away and then turned quickly, bending at the waist until her face was level with Kathryn’s. “And if you ask me, accepting the decision of someone who is acting like a jackass, makes you a jackass too, Kathryn. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go fuck my husband.”

She was left staring in shock into the empty space where B’Elanna’s face had been as the other woman stalked into the cockpit, sealing the door behind her. She knew she would have to address what had just happened eventually, but decided that now was neither the time nor the place. Shaking her head slightly, she turned back around to survey the room again. Everyone was still where they had been, although the poker game seemed to have broken up. Much to her relief, no one seemed to have noticed the conversation between them. 

Kathryn watched the room for a few more seconds, trying to decide if she should take a nap, join one of the groups, or stay where she was, when she felt someone looking at her. She instinctively turned her head in his direction and caught his eyes for the briefest of seconds, pools of black boring into her like a tunneling microscope, splitting her very atoms into their component parts. She raised a questioning eyebrow at him and Chakotay snapped his eyes closed again, shutting her out. 

With a sigh, she pulled her eyes away from him, stuffing all the emotions that B’Elanna had tried to dredge up back into their corner, and made eye contact with Mike across the room. She wouldn’t play poker with them, but she had always been good at math and her father had taught her to count cards when she was 8. _Maybe I can convince them to play blackjack_ , Kathryn thought with a grin. Ignoring the residual pain in her knee from her fall on the _Fawkes_ , she forced herself up and sauntered over to go kick some unsuspecting Maquis ass. 

**Six and a Half Hours Earlier**

Ensign Peters ran through the halls of Starfleet Command. He knew that he shouldn’t be running. He knew that running like this was not becoming of an officer of the Fleet. Was not appropriate for a man in his position. He was the Special Assistant to Admiral Collins, the Commander in Chief of Starfleet. A man like him should not run through the halls of the office. But he was running. Running as fast as his legs would carry him. 

He slid around a corner and finally arrived at the office he needed. Pounding on the door, he took in deep, ragged breaths as he waited for it to open. As they whooshed apart, he practically fell inside. 

“Gary,” he heard a female voice ask. “What the hell - ”

“Is Admiral Paris here,” he gasped out, gripping a stitch in his side.

“What?”

“Alexia, it’s important! Is Admiral Paris here,” he asked intensely. 

“Not yet,” she responded quickly, brown eyes full of concern. “What the hell is going on?”

Wordlessly, he walked to the darkened viewscreen inset in the wall of her office and turned it on. The screen filled with a newscast. The same newscast that had been on while he was in the mess hall for breakfast. The same newscast that had sent him sprinting through the halls to his old boss’s office. 

“Starfleet Command is requesting that anyone who might have information about the whereabouts of Admiral Kathryn Janeway and Lieutenant Thomas Paris to please contact them without delay. It is believed that they may have information that is critical to the investigation into the largest prison break in Starfleet history that is believed to have occurred in New Zealand only a short time ago,” the reporter intoned flatly. “And now for a look at sports, over to you, K’Orath.” 

“Oh my god,” Alexia breathed. 

“Do you know where he is,” Gary asked.

“At home, I think.”

“Get him on the comm right now. Find out if he needs you to take care of anything here.”

“Why,” she asked, confused beyond measure. “Because he won’t be coming in today because of this whole thing?”

“Alexia, Section 31 will be here any minute. If he helped his son plan this, he needs to be protected!” 

Her eyes grew wide as she realized what he was suggesting. “They’ll monitor all communications,” she said quietly. 

“You’ll have to find a creative way to ask him then,” he snapped. “I have to go now. When they come, do whatever they ask, but only what they ask. Don’t volunteer information. Answer only their actual questions, not their implied ones.”

“Right,” she answered in a daze. 

“Alexia! You have to move now!”

“Right,” she managed more forcefully, blinking several times to refocus. “Get out of here.” He turned to go when her voice stopped him again. “And Gary,” she said as he turned to look back at her. “Thank you.”

He nodded once and then left the office. He didn’t look back. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the slower update :( I'm hoping it'll pick up from here!


	12. Chapter 12

_Madness need not be all breakdown. It may also be break-through. - Ronald D. Laing_

**May 18, 2379**

He had no idea how long he had been sitting here. A long, long time if his muscles were telling him the truth. He had stretched himself down on the floor after she had gone over to join the card game and actually managed to sleep for what he thought was a few hours. But then Kathryn’s laugh had woken him and he knew that there would be no going back to sleep. He had pushed himself back up into a sitting position, legs stretched out in front of him this time, and had let his eyes drift closed again. It was better if he couldn’t see them anyway. _Better if you can’t see_ her, his mind corrected helpfully. 

Chakotay sighed quietly. Being in her presence again was proving even harder than he could have expected. He had thought he was over her. Thought that he had finally let go of her when he had managed to hurt her so badly that she had given him up. Even when he had seen her in New Zealand, the chief emotion that she had called up in him was anger. The fact that it was anger at her for throwing her life away and not anger at her for her treatment of him in the past or even her future self’s transgressions was neither here nor there. Anger was progress. Then B’Elanna had trapped him up here. _B’Elanna may have kept you here, but_ you _are the reason that you are on this ship in the first place._ He smacked his head back against the bulk head lightly. _Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid. You are so fucking stupid._

B’Elanna might like to tease him by calling him old man, but his hearing was still excellent. Even though she and Kathryn had been talking in whispers, he had managed to hear every word of their conversation earlier. He wasn’t shocked that she hadn’t told B’Elanna the truth. He knew that deep down, Kathryn knew that the things he had brought up when he had broken her heart - the situations where they had disagreed, where she had hurt him badly - were real wounds, albeit long scarred over. She wouldn’t want to bring them up to someone else, have someone else examine her actions and tell her what she already knew, which was that each of those things should have and would have ended any other friendship. They both knew that theirs had only survived because they loved each other. And while he had managed to convince himself towards the end that it wasn’t a romantic love, there could be no denying that love was what held them together. 

What he hadn’t expected to find in Kathryn was acceptance. He had expected her to be angry and hurt. He had expected her to simply shut any conversation about their situation down with her signature Janeway glare and silence. Instead, she had defended his decision. Explained away their falling out as something natural, even expected. “Everyone processes trauma differently,” she had said. _Trauma. You made her believe she traumatized you. That she broke you so desperately that you had to get away from her._

Anger he was prepared to deal with. He could have even managed hurt. But this total resignation - this complete and utter acceptance of the totality of the fault lying with her - was unbearable. He hadn’t been able to stop himself from staring at her then. His eyes had wrenched themselves opened of their own accord, needing to see her face, needing to see how much she was hurting because of him. The look that she had given him when she had felt him watching was too much. The quiet stare, the flick of the eyebrow as though to say, “Isn’t this what you wanted?” The look had hurt like paper cuts all over his body, sharp and stinging. _You did the job too well, Chakotay. Now you have to live with it._

She was laughing again. 

The very first thing he had discovered about Kathryn Janeway was that she was a study in contradictions. From the very moment he had beamed aboard _Voyager_ and she had put herself in front of him, forcing the entirety of her tiny frame into his space, he couldn’t understand how someone so small could make herself take up the whole universe. As he got to know her, she only continued to surprise him. 

Because it was true that she was absolutely formidable like she had been that day on the bridge - staring down whatever was in her way with her ice blue eyes, daring it to challenge her, brokering no room for disagreement or hesitation - but she was also almost unbearably tender and compassionate, offering a hand on the chest or a soft look when it was called for. She was somehow equal parts warrior and diplomat, captain and scientist, idealist and realist. She was incredibly private and built an entire fortress around her true self, making her so difficult to read that at times he almost wanted to give up trying, but at the same time she was impossibly curious, desperate to know and understand any mystery sent her way, be it person or thing. If her curiosity hadn’t been so earnest and true, it would have almost seemed unfair that someone who offered so little of herself could want to know absolutely everything about something else. 

She had focused that curiosity on him often during those first few years in the Delta Quadrant - leaning toward him, cheeks flushed, eyes fire bright and full of questions, trying to puzzle him out. He had known then that curiosity was all it was - at least, a part of him knew. But the other part of him, the part that won out most often, couldn’t help himself from noticing that she was so beautiful when she looked at him that way. Couldn’t make his heart stop beating faster or his mind stop wondering if simple curiosity was the only motivation behind her questions, behind the dilation in her pupils. Couldn’t stop himself from falling absolutely, madly in love with her.

As beautiful as Kathryn was when she was curious, he had discovered that she was somehow, impossibly, even more beautiful when she laughed. He had been utterly shocked the first time that it happened. Watching someone who built such impenetrable walls around her emotions, who could so effectively shield her true self from others, choose to throw the door open and shine the light of her pure unbridled joy upon him was breathtaking. 

They had been on the bridge when it started. Ensign Mulcahey had brought up some engineering reports for her to read and in his haste had somehow forgotten about the steps leading from the upper bridge to the lower bridge. He had tripped and fallen flat on his face, scattering the PADDs between the helm and her ready room. She and Tom had rushed to his aid, picking him up off the floor and sending him back to engineering to privately dwell in his mortification as quickly as possible. Chakotay had just caught the very beginning of a smirk on her face when she had turned back from the turbolift and when she saw him watching her, she had met his eyes and given a very slight jerk of her head in the direction of her ready room. She had gathered the PADDs and marched purposefully off the bridge, he only a step behind. As soon as the doors shut, it had happened. 

Kathryn Janeway - captain of the USS _Voyager_ , scourge of the Kazon, defender of the Ocampa, hunter of the Maquis - had dissolved into the fullest laugh he had ever heard. It was like the laughter came from her toes and it was contagious. Soon he was laughing along with her. She had laughed so hard that she had wiped tears from her eyes and gripped her sides, as if she was having to physically stop the laughter from bursting out of her chest instead of her mouth. She had eventually fallen into her chair and covered her face with her hands as she drew in deep breaths around occasional bursts of laughter until she was finally still. 

An incredible smile had graced her face when she finally looked up at him and he had felt time stop in that moment. She was astounding. She had looked younger suddenly, or perhaps she had simply looked her age finally. She was usually so controlled that he often forgot that she was only just 35, not nearly 44 like he was. 

“You can’t tell them that I think people falling down is hilarious,” she had said to him sternly, although the smile had remained on her face. “It’s simply not dignified for a captain to dissolve in a fit of giggles over an accident.” 

“Your secret’s safe with me, Captain,” he had replied with a wink. “Although, I don’t think ‘giggles’ begins to describe what that just was.” 

She had reached across the desk to pat his hand and he had felt his heart do a backflip. It was like being 17 again and was equal parts thrilling and terrifying. 

“I knew I made the right choice making you first officer.” 

He had realized then, in a flash, that he would follow her into hell itself if she asked. 

Chakotay was snapped out of his memories by the sound of her footsteps. He listened as she crossed the small cargo bay, stopping to talk quickly with a few of the others, before she finally stepped through the door that led into the cockpit. He opened his eyes slowly. She really was gone. He sighed in relief but tensed back up almost immediately as Tom and B’Elanna emerged from the cockpit together. _She must be spelling Tom again_ , he thought. He watched B’Elanna warily, wondering if she was going to come over and try to have the same conversation with him that she had tried to have with Kathryn, but she seemed to be ignoring him. Just when he thought he was safe, he saw Mike Ayala headed his way. Mike stopped at the replicator, ordering a steak sandwich and a bowl of vegetable soup and then plunked himself down beside Chakotay. 

“You should eat something,” Mike said, handing him the bowl of soup. He was about to refuse it when his stomach gave a very audible growl. 

“Thanks,” he mumbled gruffly, taking the bowl and blowing lightly on the surface to cool it a little. He lifted the bowl to his lips and drank a sip. Not as good as homemade but still tasty. He drank more and noticed Mike tucking into his sandwich. They ate in companionable silence for a few moments and he started to think that maybe he had dodged the bullet on having a conversation about Kathryn. Seconds later, he was proved wrong. 

“Did you know that she can count cards,” Mike asked quietly. The tone of the question was light with an underlying note that could only be described as awe. “Would you have ever believed it? Kathryn Janeway, the straightest arrow that you could ever meet, just wiped the floor with 4 of the best cheaters in the galaxy by cheating at cards better than we could.” He huffed a small laugh, before taking another bite of sandwich. 

“No, I didn’t,” he answered shortly when it became apparent that Mike wouldn’t settle for silence. 

“Makes you wonder what else you might not know about her,” the other man returned, staring fixedly at the last bite of his sandwich. He finally popped it in his mouth, chewing slowly. “Maybe you guys need to talk more,” he somehow managed with his mouth full. 

“Mike,” Chakotay said darkly, the warning clear in his tone. 

“What happened between you, boss,” Ayala pressed, reverting to his old nickname from their time in the Maquis. “She was your best friend - hell, most of us thought you guys were way more than friends - then all of the sudden you’re dating Seven-of-Nine and telling Kathryn that you aren’t friends at all - ”

He trailed off and Chakotay could feel him looking at him. 

“I’m not talking about this, Mike.”

“Why not? I mean, maybe if you tell me what happened, I can help you fix it or at least understand - ”

“I’m not talking about it because it’s none of your business,” he hissed angrily, fixing Mike with a glare that had been almost exclusively reserved for Cardassians in the past. 

“You’re my friend,” Ayala hissed back, undeterred by the stare or the attitude. “That makes it my business.”

“If you’re really my friend, you’ll do as I ask and stay out of it.”

“No.”

His answer stopped Chakotay dead, like his brain wouldn’t even process his response. 

“What do you mean ‘no’? You don’t get to say no.”

“Yes, I do. Look, Chakotay. You’re a nice guy, when you want to be. You’re approachable and personable and that makes you seem friendly and popular. But you have exactly three real friends, man. Me, B’Elanna, and Kathryn.” 

Chakotay started to interrupt but Mike just kept on talking. 

“Don’t get me wrong, you’re friendly with a lot of people and I would even say that you were bordering on real friendship with Harry and Tom before we left _Voyager_. But you don’t let people know the real you very often. Why do you think we were all so shocked when you just instantly bonded with this woman who was sent to bring us to prison? I’ll give you a clue and tell you that it wasn’t the ‘bringing us to prison’ part that was the most surprising. You bonding with anyone was a shock. But after a few months, we all started to see why. She’s your match, Chakotay. She makes you better. You make her better. She’s all kinds of crazy when you aren’t there to brainstorm with and you’re the angriest person I have ever met when you aren’t on good terms with her. And you’ve met my mother-in-law, so you know what my baseline is for angry people.” 

He grinned at Chakotay for a second, clearly remembering when they had shown up on his in-laws’ doorstep, covered in mud and blood to announce that Mike and Eliana had eloped just prior to them leaving to go on a midnight raid of a Cardassian detainment camp. Chakotay hadn’t realized that human beings could make noises that were in that particular frequency until her mother had started screaming at them all in a bizarre mix of Serbian, Hebrew, and Standard. 

“There aren’t many matches like you two out there, boss. So stop being an absolute moron and figure the shit out between you. Otherwise, I promise you that you’ll both regret it for the rest of your lives.” He stood up without waiting for a response and returned to the far corner of the cargo bay to lay down on the floor and within moments was asleep. 

Chakotay was left staring at him and had to consciously remind himself to shut his mouth where it had fallen open. Mike was one of his oldest friends and they had each been the one to tell the other some difficult truthes many times before. Chakotay had even had a conversation very similar to this one with Mike when he was waffling over his feelings for Eliana. Mike had only been similarly blunt with him once before. 

It had been about Seska. Mike had never liked her, not from the first moment that Chakotay had brought her into the fold. Not from the first second that she opened her mouth and made some double entendre about Chakotay being very “hands on” with his subordinates. Mike had told him that she was bad news and when he had insisted on adding her to the crew had taken to watching her like a hawk. When Seska had coaxed Chakotay into her bed for the first time, Mike had greeted him in the morning by punching him in the face. They had fought bitterly and he had called him a moron then, too. 

A small voice in the back of his mind reminded Chakotay that if he had just listened to Mike then, the whole crew would have been much better off and maybe that meant that he was right about this as well. He shook his head slightly to dislodge that thought before it could gain any traction. Mike didn’t have all the facts here. This wasn’t the same. 

He caught B’Elanna looking at him from across the room and quickly realized that he would have no peace at all if he stayed where he was. Quickly deciding between the rock and the hard place he found himself in, he pushed himself up off the floor. Placing his bowl back into the replicator for recycling, he then crossed the room and pressed the panel that would open the door to the cockpit. Chakotay took a deep breath and crossed the threshold, closing the door behind him. 

“Tom, for the last time, I am not tired and I am not going to let you fly for the next 10 hours when you have already been flying for - ” Kathryn had been facing the viewscreen when he entered and had spun herself around, apparently expecting to see Tom. The look of abject shock on her face as she stopped talking was almost comical. 

She finally recovered after blinking twice very slowly in what looked like an attempt to get her brain to run through a system restart. “Are you lost,” she asked sarcastically. 

“No.” He watched her face process the situation and suddenly something seemed to dawn on her. Her face fell and she looked utterly exhausted. 

“Chakotay, if you’re here to yell at me some more, I’d really appreciate it if you could just wait for about 10 hours until we get where we’re going. Once we’re there, we can take a nice long walk and you can yell at me to your heart’s content. Hell, I’ll even let you push me into a lake or something if it will make you feel better. But if we could just - not do this right this second, that would be fantastic.”

“I’m not here to yell at you.” 

“Okay,” she replied uncertainly. 

“I just,” he started, running a hand through his hair and then tugging on his ear quickly. “I just needed to get away from them for a while,” he finished finally. “Just pretend I’m not here.” 

“Alright,” she answered cautiously. She watched him as he dropped into the seat at the ops station and closed his eyes again. He heard her swing the chair back around a few seconds later and knew that she had her eyes trained on the viewscreen once more. He basked in the silence and the comfort of a chair instead of the hard floor he had been resting on for who knew how long and within seconds was asleep. His last thought as he passed into unconsciousness was to wonder how long it had been since she had slept. 

**3 Hours Later**

“They’ve been in there for an eternity,” Tom whispered to B’Elanna, eyes fixed on the still very closed door between the cockpit and the cargo bay. 

“It’s been three hours, Paris,” she replied, refusing to even open her eyes. “Also, you’re supposed to be sleeping.”

He reluctantly laid back down next to her, drawing her into his arms and tucking her head under his chin. “What do you think they’re doing in there?”

“Honestly? Probably sitting in a very uncomfortable silence.”

“You really think that they have been sitting in the same room and not talking to each other for THREE HOURS?” 

“Yes, sweetheart, I do. Because they are both stubborn dumbasses who don’t know what’s good for them.” She rolled over to face him and pillowed her head on his chest. “I just don’t know how they got here,” she barely whispered, sadness clearly evident on her face even in the lowered lights of the cargo bay. 

Everyone had decided to try and get some sleep finally when B’Elanna had pointed out that the Maquis had all been awake for nearly 24 hours. She and Tom had staked out the space where Chakotay had been sitting. Their closest neighbor was Mike, who had extended the biobed and was currently snoring above them to Tom’s left. 

“Kathryn wouldn’t tell you either,” Tom asked, placing a light kiss in his wife’s hair. 

“No. Neither of them will talk about it. She said something vague about everyone processing trauma differently, but what the hell is there for Chakotay to be traumatized about? I mean, they were fine when we got home. Well, other than the old man having gone temporarily insane and deciding to date Seven,” she amended. “It’s like - it’s like she blames herself for something. Like whatever happened between them was her fault and so she’s not going to fight for them because she feels like she doesn’t deserve to.”

“She does tend to blame herself for things that she has no business taking responsibility for,” he agreed. 

“It looked like Mike got nowhere with him either,” B’Elanna whispered sadly. 

“I don’t know about nowhere,” Mike chimed in suddenly. 

“Christ, Mike,” she whispered loudly. “Warn a girl when you’re listening!”

She heard a low chuckle above her. 

“What do you think’s going on,” Tom asked. 

“I’m not sure yet. But he still loves her. He’s trying to pretend that he doesn’t, but he can’t take his eyes off her any time he thinks that no one is watching. He’s hurting, but it’s almost like he’s hurting for both of them.” He trailed off, clearly lost in the puzzle that was their friends. “It’s different than the last time,” he finished. “Different than Seska. He knew that she was bad news all along - that’s why it didn’t last more than a few months. That was the conflict that I saw in him then. But whatever this is, it’s deep and painful and way more than just believing that sleeping with her might be a bad idea.”

“I feel like they just need to talk to each other,” B’Elanna said, letting out an irritated sigh. 

“Maybe we can just force them to be together all the time and then they’ll have to talk,” Tom replied jokingly. He watched his wife’s eyes go wide as though she had just figured out one of the great mysteries of life. 

“Tom, you are an absolute genius,” she exclaimed, placing a searing kiss on his lips. 

“Thank you. Care to explain how,” he returned breathlessly. 

“How many rooms are dedicated as crew quarters on the _Fawkes_?”

“Twelve, I think.”

“Were all of them accessible?”

“I’m not sure. We didn’t actually sleep on the thing. We had to do all the repairs and get the ship off Kronos and to the rendezvous point and then we had more repairs and the Doctor had to install our communications chips. By the time we were done with all that, it was time for us to go back to Kronos so we could all get back to where were supposed to be.”

“Do you think you could convince Harry to tell her that only 8 of the rooms are inhabitable?” 

“Probably, but why?” Tom and Mike were both looking at her with very confused expressions. 

“You remember that movie you made me watch? The one with the twins separated at birth who decide to get their parents back together,” she asked with a grin.

“ _The Parent Trap_ ,” Tom said incredulously. 

“That’s the one.”

“Ah,” Mike said as he realized where she was going. “You want to set up a little ‘parent trap’ of our own.” 

“Exactly.” Her eyes flashed with mischief as she found Tom’s in the dark. “It’s time for a lot more togetherness.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the slow update. Real life got in the way (again). Enjoy!


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For reference - all temperatures given in this work will be in Celsius, because, let's face it, there is no way on God's green Earth that even Americans will still be using Fahrenheit 300 years from now.  
> Happy reading!

_It's better to face madness with a plan than to sit still and let it take you in pieces. - Josh Malerman_

**May 19, 2379**

Kathryn stared blankly at the viewscreen and suddenly was overtaken by a yawn so large that she was afraid it was going to split her head in half. _How long has is been since I slept_ , she thought to herself. She did some quick math, eyes narrowing as she realized that it was - 29? no, 30 - hours since she’d had any sleep at all. She hadn’t gotten much sleep for the last week if she was honest and she realized that she was only running on about 11 hours total over the previous 6 days. “You’re getting too old for this,” she whispered to herself. 

She swung her chair around as she heard the door whoosh open. The noise woke the other occupant of the cockpit and she flicked her eyes over to him as he sat up with a start. Chakotay had fallen asleep almost immediately after sitting down, but she guessed that it hadn’t been entirely restful. He had moved around in the chair a lot and had even spoken something unintelligible several times. She hadn’t been able to stop herself from checking on him once, wondering if she should wake him or just let him be. She’d decided against disturbing him and he had eventually fallen into more peaceful sleep. 

“What time is it,” he mumbled, rubbing his hands over his face forcefully. 

“Well, that kind of depends of your frame of reference,” Tom answered him, as he strolled down the incline towards Kathryn. “The _Flyer_ is set to San Fransisco time, so it’s 08:37 the day after we got you out of New Zealand. But to your body, it’s probably closer to 15:00. And I believe it’s about 16:00 planetside at the rendezvous point.” 

“How long was I asleep?”

“About eight hours,” she answered quietly. He stared at her in stunned silence, like he had almost forgotten that she was there at all. 

“Oh,” was his only reply. 

“Up you get, Kathryn,” Tom interjected, breaking the awkward silence that had begun to spool out between them. “You need your best pilot to get you through the nebula.”

“We have another half hour until we hit the nebula,” she protested. “You should still be asleep.”

“You’re flying us into a nebula,” she heard Chakotay ask incredulously behind her.

“Nope, I’m taking over. End of story.” Tom stood in front of her with his arms folded across his chest, attempting to look menacing and failing.

"What kind of nebula,” Chakotay interjected. 

“A class 2 nebula,” she said without turning her head, refusing to break eye contact with Tom. “Are you giving me an order, Tom?”

“Maybe I am.”

“Excuse me!” Tom and Kathryn whirled around to look at the source of the outburst. “Are you both out of your goddamn minds? You know how dangerous navigating through that type of nebula is? You’re practically flying blind,” Chakotay growled loudly. 

“Chakotay, it’s perfectly fine,” Tom started. “I’ve already done it twice in ships way worse than the _Flyer_.”

“Oh, that’s comforting!” 

“Tom can do it, Chakotay. I’ve seen him. It’s going to be okay,” Kathryn said softly, hoping to diffuse the situation. 

“Oh, really? You think I haven’t noticed that you’re favoring your right knee, Kathryn? Because I have. Is that from his ‘perfectly fine’ maneuvering of this nebula?” His tone was acerbic as he glared at her. “What are you two doing? Purposefully looking for the craziest thing you can possibly do? Because that’s sure as hell what it seems like,” he practically spat back at her. 

“You know what, Chakotay, go to hell,” she snapped. She had had enough. “This place is safe and difficult to get to and it was the best possible option for us with the limited resources that we have. And just because you couldn’t navigate through a class 2 nebula without crashing the damn shuttle or killing someone, doesn’t mean that Tom can’t. So just sit down and shut the fuck up.” She stood up from the pilot’s seat and stormed out of the cockpit, leaving the two men in stunned silence in her wake. 

She went barreling into the cargo hold and slid directly into the lavatory, slamming the lock button behind her. She wanted to scream. Or hit something. Or scream while hitting something. She couldn’t believe him. 

He was always doing this on _Voyager_. Questioning her judgment, treating her like she hadn’t already assessed the risks. At worst, it had been merely irritating then because it had been his job as her First Officer. But now? Here? He had no right. No place. _He doesn’t even want to be here_ , she raged internally. _He cut me out._ He _rejected_ me. _And he has the_ audacity _to think that he gets an opinion about what we are doing?_

She blew a forced breath out between pursed lips. She gripped the sink with both hands so forcefully that her knuckles turned white and she could feel the sharp metal of the underside of the lip cutting into her fingers. _Get a grip, Kathryn. This doesn’t do any one any good._ She mentally counted backwards from ten, concentrating on her breathing. 

She didn’t often lose her temper but when she did, she was a terror. Her father had told her that she had to learn to control it and had taken her to see a barrage of professionals who had all tried various different techniques with her to no avail. Meditation, visualization, role reversal, even hypnosis had all come up short. In the end, it was her mother who had discovered the key. 

“Katie,” she had said. “Stupid and frustrating people are going to assail you everywhere. If you fly off the handle at all of them, you’ll spend your whole life in a fight. So do what I do. When you start to get hot under the collar, count backwards from 10 in your head and visualize a different way of killing them with each number. I think you’ll find that when you’ve thought of 10 ways to kill a person, just knowing you could do it makes it easier to tolerate them. They live only at your mercy now.” 

Kathryn had never mentioned this conversation to her father. He had never asked what technique she was using to control her temper and she hadn’t volunteered an explanation. Somehow, she didn’t think the method would comfort him the same way it had her. 

Unfortunately, as angry as she was at Chakotay, she couldn’t come up with ten ways to kill him. She couldn’t even think of killing him once. Beating him senseless, maybe. Even still, as she got to one, she did feel calmer. 

“You have got to stop yelling at him,” she said sternly to her reflection. “Anger feeds anger. Just don’t engage and maybe you can both survive this.” Firm in her resolution, she rinsed the small amount of blood off her hands from the narrow cuts from the sink and then splashed her face with water. She felt better and more awake and decided that she would head back into the cockpit to help Tom navigate. 

As she exited the bathroom, she didn’t notice that Chakotay wasn’t in the cargo bay and so it came as something of a shock to find him ensconced in the navigator’s seat when she returned. As he turned to face her, the look he gave her was also shocking. He looked almost apologetic. She raised a silent eyebrow at him and he made a move to stand, to relinquish his post to her, when she waived him back down and turned to seat herself at ops instead. 

“Status,” she enquired forcefully, reverting to her command mode.

“Steady as she goes and on course for our final destination, Kathryn,” came Tom’s reply. 

“Time to nebula?”

“18 minutes,” Chakotay replied. Silence pervaded the cabin. 

“So, Epsilon IV, huh? Isn’t that where Ransom hid from those Klingons?” Chakotay had dropped the questions into the silence like grenades.

_Shit_ , Kathryn thought. She’d left him at navigation. _Of course he can see where we are headed._ They hadn’t intended to tell anyone who wasn’t planning to stay with them on a permanent basis where they were going. It would protect all of them in the event that one of them got recaptured, since it was impossible to tell Section 31 something that they didn’t know. “You can’t tell anyone,” Kathryn ordered, her voice full of steel. “None of them can know where we’re going. It’s for their own safety. And for ours.”

“I know, Kathryn,” he snapped back. He sighed deeply, running a hand over his face and then turned to look at her, his face full of unanticipated sincerity. “Your secret’s safe with me,” he said. It was the least angry thing that he had said to her since she first saw him in New Zealand. She stared at him in surprise and then nodded once before turning to look back at her console. 

“Well, let’s get this bird on the ground,” Tom said enthusiastically, clearly trying to inject anything other that whatever the hell it was that was going on between them into the room. 

“Right,” she said. “Everything looks good systems-wise. No issues and still no Federation ships on long range sensors. If all goes according to plan, we should be planetside in a little over an hour.”

“I assume communications are out,” Chakotay asked.

“Yeah, too much interference,” Tom threw over his shoulder. “We should be able to raise them when we are about 10 minutes out.” They fell into a companionable silence until they entered the nebula. 

Unsurprisingly, navigating the volatile cloud was far easier with three skilled pilots running the various systems and they actually managed to shave a few minutes off of their time as they approached the planet. 

“Ladies and gentlemen, this is your pilot speaking,” Tom said over the internal comm system, adopting a voice not unlike a 20th century radio announcer. “We are about 6 minutes out from our final destination. I’ve been informed that it is a balmy 12 degrees planetside and local time is 18:08. On behalf of former Admiral Janeway, former Commander Chakotay, and the rest of the flight crew, I’d like to thank you for choosing Air Getaway for your prison break and remind you to put your tray tables and seat backs into their upright positions as we prepare for landing. We hope our 26 hour journey has been nothing but pleasurable for you all.”

They could hear the laughter and the cheering coming from the cargo bay through the sealed door and Kathryn had to put a hand over her mouth to stifle her own mirth. She looked across to see Chakotay grinning down at Tom like a small child, dimples fully on display. She felt her heart do a small flipflop at the once familiar sight but she quickly reminded herself that it was likely temporary. He was only laughing at Tom’s joke. He wasn’t actually happy to be here with them. He was still mad at her and she still wasn’t entirely sure why. She forced her eyes off of him before he could notice her looking and scowl at her again, wanting to hold on to the look of him happy for just a little while longer. 

Their landing in the _Delta Flyer_ was far less eventful than the one in the _Fawkes_ had been and they rapidly found themselves running through the post-flight checklist while B’Elanna prepared everyone to disembark. 

Kathryn stood up and stretched her back and arms before walking down the incline towards the pilots seat. As Tom stood, she grabbed him in a bear hug. 

“Congratulations, Tom. We did the impossible,” she said to him quietly. 

“Thank you for everything, Kathryn,” he whispered back. 

She patted him on the back and then let go, heading back up the incline. Kathryn caught Chakotay watching her but chose to ignore him. Passing him, she opened a panel on the wall and pulled out two Starfleet issue duffel bags. She tossed one down to Tom and then slung hers over her shoulder and headed back into the hold to disembark. She didn’t look back. 

As Kathryn headed down the gangplank, she froze as she watched the scene unfolding before her. Harry had come out of the _Fawkes_ carrying Miral and B’Elanna was racing towards them as fast as she could. The little girl had her arms thrown out towards her mother and was babbling loudly. The second B’Elanna was close enough, she grabbed Miral and collapsed to the ground, holding her to her chest and kissing her face while sobbing uncontrollably. Kathryn could hear her trying to speak to her daughter through her tears, words of love and of a relief so palpable it felt like it was too private and too personal for them all to be watching. She felt Tom rush by her, running as fast as his legs would carry him toward his wife and daughter, sliding to a stop as he dropped to his knees in front of them and enveloped them both in his embrace. They sat like that, with their 3 heads together, crying and laughing and kissing, seemingly content to never move again now that they were together. Kathryn swallowed hard past the lump in her throat and brushed away silent tears as she watched B’Elanna turn slightly to grab one of Harry’s hands and pull him down to the ground with them.

She tore her eyes away from them and saw similar scenes unfolding with everyone else. It was as though B’Elanna had opened the floodgates in the former Maquis and everyone was laughing and embracing as they realized that they really had made it out. They were going home. Alik and Olandra were kissing passionately to her right while Anne and Marco were simply holding each other, foreheads pressed together as though they were lost in silent prayer. Mariah had one arm slung over Ral’s shoulders and Kathryn watched as her eyes widened in shock when Ian Murphy planted a kiss on her. She almost made a move to intervene when Mariah clearly started to reciprocate and Kathryn stood down. Mike had gravitated towards the Doctor and pulled the hologram into what would have been a bone crushing hug, if he’d had bones. 

Hearing a noise behind her, she turned slightly and saw that she and Chakotay were the last people left on the gangplank. He was standing just behind her and to her left, the position so familiar that it felt both completely natural for him to be there and so impossibly painful that it was like being torn apart. She looked away quickly, hoping that he hadn’t seen the anguish that she hadn’t been strong enough to hide. 

“Kathryn,” she heard him whisper behind her. 

“Yes,” she replied, eyes still forward, incapable of turning around to look him in the face. 

“I was wrong.”

She felt herself turning slowly, almost as though her body had decided to do it without her permission, until she was looking at him again.

“About what,” she asked breathlessly. 

“About this,” came his reply. “It was insane. But it was also the right thing to do. Look at them. Look at what you’ve done for them.” He was staring at the pile of people that was Harry, B’Elanna, Miral, and Tom. “You’ve put families back together.” He flicked his eyes to hers and she saw tears and truth there. 

“I know,” she returned quietly. “And thank you. I’m glad you understand. I couldn’t do nothing.” 

“No, you couldn’t,” he agreed. 

Their eyes remained locked together for what felt like an eternity. For the first time in a long time, she realized that she was seeing the real him. That his eyes were clear of anger and hurt and his face was open and it was like nothing had happened between them. She was just about to speak - almost ready to voice the question she hadn’t been brave enough to ask when he had broken her heart - when she watched his eyes cloud over again. It was like he had suddenly remembered that he was mad at her, and she could see the exact moment when he withdrew from her and shut her out again. Just like that, it wasn’t her Chakotay that was staring at her anymore, but this angry stranger instead and the change hit her like a slap to the face. 

Swallowing hard, she nodded at him once as some sort of bizarre end to their conversation and then tore herself away and started down towards the ground. With each step, Kathryn willed herself to pull it back together, promising that she would deal with this all later. By the time she was down, she had control again.

The second she was on the ground, Mike Ayala grabbed her around the waist and spun her around. 

“I can’t believe it, Cap- Kathryn,” he yelled joyously. “We’re free!” 

She couldn’t stop the laugh that burst out of her, but quickly smacked his shoulder playfully. “Put me down, you oaf,” she replied. “I may not be your captain anymore but that doesn’t mean you get to toss me around like a sack of flour.” 

He dropped her quickly, a sheepish look painted on his face. “Sorry, Kathryn.” The look on his face was the absolute picture of remorse. 

She placed a reassuring hand on his chest. “It’s okay, Mike. I’m so happy that you’re happy.” She smiled up at him and watched him smile back. “But don’t pick me up again.” She raised her eyebrow to glare at him. 

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied with a grin, running off to hug Ken Dalby before she could smack him. 

Rolling her eyes, she quickly located the Doctor and crossed over to him. He seemed slightly overwhelmed by everything that was going on. 

“Well, Doctor, we did it,” she said without preamble as she arrived at his side. “Any regrets?”

“After seeing this,” he asked quietly, eyes drifting over to where B’Elanna, Harry, and Tom had finally managed to pull themselves apart and were now laughing about something that Harry was telling them. “Never. I have no doubts at all that this is what is right.” 

“Good,” she replied with a smile. Kathryn watched her former crew for a few more moments before a shiver ran through her. The sun was starting to set and the ambient temperature was rapidly falling. “We should get everyone inside. It’s going to get even colder.”

“You’re right,” the Doctor replied. “Harry and I took the liberty of preparing some dinner for everyone.” 

“What a great idea,” she returned enthusiastically. “Everyone!” Years of serving together meant that the second her voice rang out, she had her whole crew’s attention. “Harry and the Doctor have some dinner prepared. If everyone would like to come inside, we can eat and then get everyone assigned to some quarters. I don’t know about you, but I could use a good night’s sleep before we start the work on the _Fawkes_.” 

A general murmur of assent went up from everyone and she distinctly heard Chell say “I’m starving,” before he was elbowed into silence by O’Donnell. 

“I know that none of you have anything except the clothes on your backs, but we can use the replicator on the _Flyer_ to get everyone a few changes of clothes and some essentials. For now, let’s head inside and celebrate.” She turned on her heel and headed inside, hearing her troops following behind her. 

She refused the urge to glance back over her shoulder to look for him. _You are letting go, Kathryn_ , she told herself. Her refusal meant that she missed the remorsefulness in his eyes as he watched her. It meant she didn’t see him mumbling something to himself as he climbed the ramp to enter the ship, Mike at his side. 

“You’re letting her go,” Mike heard him whisper. 

“What did you say?”

“Just that I was hungry,” Chakotay answered. Both men knew it was a lie. 

**Nineteen Hours Earlier - May 18, 2379  
**

“You have a lovely home, Mrs. Janeway.”

“Thank you. The farm has been in my husband’s family for 500 years. Can I get you some tea or coffee, Commander -” she paused for a moment, searching for his name in her mind. “I’m sorry, but I seem to have forgotten your name.”

“That’s because I haven’t said it yet, ma’am. And tea would be marvelous.” The tall blond man stared at her expectantly. 

“Well, you seem to have me at a disadvantage then,” Gretchen returned, irritated by his rudeness. Silence stretched between them as he seemed unfazed by her rancor. She would have to choose a new tactic. “I’ll just go make us some then. Earl gray okay with you?” He nodded slightly. “Make yourself at home.” She stood up and headed for the kitchen, knowing that it would give him time to snoop around her living room. 

They didn’t have a replicator in the house, since Gretchen had always preferred to make food the old fashioned way, and so she filled her kettle with water and placed it on the stove to heat. Pulling two mugs down from a cabinet, she deposited a tea bag in each while she waited. 

She had known that they would come - that it was inevitable - but she still couldn’t shake the feeling of cold fingers running up her spine whenever she thought about the man that was currently unsupervised in her living room. 

“Oh, Katie,” she whispered to herself as the kettle started to whistle. “I hope you know what you’re doing.” 

Placing the two mugs, her sugar bowl, and a small bottle of milk on a tray, she carried it out of the kitchen and headed back to find her uninvited guest. She discovered him eyeing the photos on her mantle. He had one of them in his hands. 

“Please don’t touch that,” she said abruptly when she realized which one he was holding. It was a photo of Katie and her father at her graduation from the Academy. 

He replaced the photo on the mantle and turned to look at her. 

“I’m sure that you’re glad that your husband didn’t have to live to see your daughter become a criminal,” he said quietly as she handed him his tea. 

Gretchen had been expecting something like his statement and so she managed not to flinch or react in any way. 

“There’s no proof that my daughter is a criminal, Commander,” she replied calmly. She sat down on the sofa and indicated that he should sit in the arm chair. 

“We have a witness, Mrs. Janeway. Actually, according to the witness, your daughter might have died in the attempt.” 

“Milk? Sugar,” she asked with a small smile. 

“Didn’t you hear me, Mrs. Janeway? I said your daughter might be dead.”

“If you really thought that, you wouldn’t be telling me like this,” Gretchen answered, steel beneath her cheery tone. She was slightly startled to hear him start to laugh quietly. 

“You know they warned me at HQ. They told me that there was more to you than just a holonovelist and a ‘Fleet wife. You’re who she gets it from, aren’t you? Everyone always thinks that it was her father, but it’s you. You’re the one with steel in her soul.”

“I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she replied, sipping her tea demurely. 

He leaned toward her suddenly, smile gone, eyes full of ice. 

“I’m going to catch her, Mrs. Janeway. It’s only a matter of time.”

“It’s an awfully big galaxy, Commander,” she bit back, friendliness gone and voice flat. “And trust me when I tell you, Katie is a force to be reckoned with. I don’t think God himself could find her if she didn’t want him to.” 

“You’ve never met me.”

“I have now. And I’ll tell you a secret,” she said, leaning towards him conspiratorially, “she’s so much smarter than you, it won’t even be a fair fight.” She grinned at him as his face darkened in anger and he stood up abruptly. 

“If I find so much as a whisper of a rumor that you were involved with this, I’ll make sure that you and that other daughter of yours are thrown into a dark hole that you will never emerge from,” he almost whispered. 

“Is that all, Commander No-Name,” she quipped as she stood as well.

“It is, Mrs. Janeway,” he returned, his mask of civility fixed in place once more. “Thank you for the tea.”

“I would say that you’re welcome, but we both know that would be a lie.”

“I’ll show myself out,” he stated. He walked towards the door to the living room that led to the hall and the front door and then paused. “And Mrs. Janeway,” he said, turning his head slightly to look over his shoulder, “It’s Commander Lynch. It’s a name you’ll want to remember when I capture your daughter and her band of criminals.”

In three strides he was gone, leaving the front door open behind him.   


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for bearing with me with a longer update everyone. Now that the holidays and this absolutely impossible chapter are over, I'm hoping to get back to a more regular posting schedule. Thank you again for continuing to read :)  
> PS. Any A-team fans out there should get the little nod to a Lynch being the one hunting our band of rogues :)


	14. Chapter 14

_Perhaps love is a minor madness. And as with madness, it's unendurable alone. - Andrew Sean Greer_

**May 19, 2379**

Dinner was remarkably festive. The Doctor had made several trips to Kronos for provisions in his Klingon form and thus they were fairly well stocked with different foods and other essentials. He and Harry had discovered that Klingon mattresses were apparently a non-standard size and so he had picked up some bedding for everyone and pots and pans for the kitchen so that they wouldn’t have to be dependent on replicators.

Klingon ale flowed freely as everyone celebrated the first moments of their new found freedom that didn’t involve being trapped together in 5 by 7 meter cargo bay. Kathryn had put on her best party face and was managing to hold herself together fairly well, but was starting to flag. Her exhaustion paired with at least one too many glasses of ale followed by too little food was making it harder and harder to pretend that she was fine. She sat staring at her plate of half finished food when she felt someone drop into the seat beside her. 

“Do you have a second, Kathryn,” Harry asked quietly. 

“Always for you, Harry,” she returned, even managing a small smile. “What can I do for you?”

“I wanted to discuss accommodations.”

“Accommodations?”

“Yeah. The Doc and I figured out after I got back with Miral that 4 of the crew quarters are uninhabitable.”

“How come,” she asked, becoming concerned. “Not something life threatening, I hope?”

“Oh, no, nothing like that. We can’t seem to get the doors opened for 2 of them and then the other 2 look like they must have been converted into animal storage at some point or another.” She watched him wrinkle his nose in disgust at the memory. “I think we’ll need the EV suits from the _Flyer_ to get people in there to clean them and even then, I’m not sure they’ll be suitable for a human being to live in.” 

“We can take a look in the morning. I’m sure there will be more than enough of us to dedicate a team to getting the doors repaired and the others cleaned.” She patted his hand gently. “And for tonight, we’ll all just have to double up. I’m sure that no one will mind. We’ve all been trapped together in a much smaller space for more than a day. Having a whole room with just one other person in it will feel like a vacation,” she said with a laugh. 

“How do you want to assign roommates,” he replied. 

“Well, you can put all the couples together - Tom and B’Elanna - and Miral, of course - Anne and Marco, Alik and Olandra - and then start asking for volunteers, I guess.” She shrugged her shoulders slightly. “This group has been together for long enough that I don’t think anyone will care who they end up with, especially since it’s temporary.” 

He nodded slightly as he made notations of the couples she had mentioned on his PADD. She could see that he had a schematic of the ship pulled up and was dropping the names into the rooms as a way of keeping track of the assignments. 

“Any preference on roommate,” he asked her without looking up. 

She paused for a second as her eyes darted across the room to where Chakotay was sitting next to Mike. They would most likely choose to bunk together and so she decided that she could look flexible without having to worry about it. 

“No preference,” she returned calmly. “We’re all friends. But I would like a room assignment as soon as possible. I’m bushed.” She sighed heavily as though just voicing the words had doubled the level of her exhaustion. 

“I’ll get right on it, Kathryn,” Harry said with a smile. He stood up and started down the table, stopping at the next group to ask for their preferences. 

With Harry gone, she returned to contemplating her food. It was okay, she supposed. Better than some of the stuff that Neelix had come up with, but still not amazing. She wondered if it was Harry or the Doctor that had made it and then quickly followed that thought with a hope that one of the Maquis was a better cook than this. She knew that Chell had taken Neelix’s place on _Voyager_ but she wasn’t sure that her intestines could take a second exposure to his Red Alert Chili. She felt a small shudder run through her at the memory and then forced herself to take another bite of the slightly overcooked - chicken? pork? something Klingon that was like chicken or pork? She chewed contemplatively and then swallowed hard, washing it down with more ale. 

“Is this seat taken?”

She looked up to find Mike standing next to her. 

“All yours,” she said with a smile. 

He dropped down next to her and brought his head closer to hers. “What do you think of dinner,” he whispered conspiratorially. 

“It’s fine,” she answered back. “It was very sweet of Harry and the Doctor to think of us.”

“You can say that it’s bad, Kathryn. You’re not the captain anymore,” he whispered with a grin. 

“It’s not bad,” she insisted. “It’s just not - marvelous.” She heard him snort beside her and leveled a glare in his direction. He threw up both of his hands in surrender. 

“Sorry, Kathryn. Listen, the reason I’m bringing it up, is that I’d like to volunteer. I did some of the cooking on the _Val Jean_ and I’m not bad. There are others too. Anne makes a pretty mean Surprise Stew and Marco is a pretty damn good cook, as well. I could ask around and then draw up a rotation for kitchen duty, if that sounds okay?”

“That sounds wonderful, Mike,” she said warmly. She looked back down at the plate in front of her and sighed quietly. “I was hoping that I was just tired and that’s why it was kind of tasteless.”

She heard him snort again but he was already walking away from her before she could do anything about it. As she watched Mike walk away, she spotted the Doctor eyeing her suspiciously. She saw him pull Tom aside and whisper something in his ear. Tom started grinning from ear to ear as the Doctor disappeared into the kitchen next door. 

_Well, that can’t be good_ , Kathryn thought to herself. She started scanning the room for Harry, hoping that he had had enough time to get to everyone and could tell her which room was going to be assigned to her. She had to get out of here. She didn’t know what they were planning, but she knew that Tom Paris and that smile were never ever a good combination. She finally spotted Harry from across the room and had just managed to stand up when the Doctor emerged from the kitchen. He was carrying a cake. 

She felt relief flood her system as she started to drop back into her seat. It was just dessert. She’d stay and have one little piece and then she would corner Harry and find out what room she was in. She needed to sleep for 20 or 30 hours. _You’re starting to get paranoid_ , she thought with irritation. That was when the Doctor started singing. 

“Happy birthday to you.” 

She felt herself freeze as her blood turned to ice in her veins. 

“Happy birthday to you.”

_No_ , she thought in horror. _No, it can’t be._

“Happy birthday, dear Kathryn.”

_What day is it?_ It was May definitely but it couldn’t be her birthday yet. 

“Happy birthday to you!” 

The Doctor plunked the cake down in front of her, his face full of joy. “I know it’s not until tomorrow, Kathryn, but we all wanted to make sure that you got to celebrate your birthday this year.”

She stared into the cake with unseeing eyes. Not until tomorrow, he had said. So it was the nineteenth. She had left her mother two days before her birthday. Dear god, this was worse than when they disappeared 2 weeks after Christmas. Kathryn looked up from the cake, instinctively searching for the eyes that she had found strength and hope and understanding in for so long. She located him across the room and for a split second their eyes met and she knew that he understood. She saw his face transform into grief for the briefest of moments and then, just like earlier, it was gone, replaced with indifference again.

It was too much. 

She was a strong person. She had always prided herself on it. It took a lot to break her.

But this was it. This was too much. 

Kathryn stood up quickly, the chair screeching on the metal floor as the speed and force of her legs propelled it backwards. Her body had activated the flight reflex and she was suddenly an animal trying to claw her way out of a trap. She barely registered the surprised look on the Doctor’s face as she turned to look for Harry and the nearest exit. 

“Kathryn?” The Doctor reached out and touched her arm. “Are you okay?”

She turned to look back at him and between the look on his face and the feel of his hand on her arm, she suddenly returned to herself. She could hear her pulse thundering in her ears and taste the tang of adrenaline on her tongue, but she was Kathryn again. 

“I -” she started, swallowing hard as a wave of nausea hit her. “I’m fine, Doctor. Just surprised.” She ran her hands across her face in an attempt to center herself. When they fell away she saw that both were shaking slightly from the adrenaline rush and so she quickly folded her arms across her chest to hide it. Kathryn took a quiet breath and then turned to face the room. Her mask of control was firmly back in place.

“Thank you so much, everyone. This is so extremely thoughtful. And as much as I would love to stay and enjoy this wonderful cake with you all, I am suddenly feeling a little under the weather. Please stay and enjoy. Welcome home, everyone.” She smiled quickly and then looked at Harry as she started making her way towards the door. Thankfully, he understood and followed her away from the others.

“Where did I end up, Harry,” she asked quietly. 

“Kathryn, are you all right? You seemed weird back there for a second -”

“I’m fine, Harry. I’m just exhausted and not as young as I used to be. I just need to sleep.” Her tone would broker no arguments.

“Take this lift down to deck 4. Yours is the third room on the left. I beamed your bag down already.” 

“Thank you,” Kathryn said quickly. 

Five strides put her in the lift. She pressed the button for deck 4 and watched the doors start to close in front of her. As the doors closed, she noticed that the Doctor had begun cutting the cake and the general feel of the room seemed to have improved. At any other time, she would have been relieved.

She felt the lift start to move and leaned back against the wall.

She was finally alone. 

The noise that fought its way out of her chest was inhuman. Something between a strangled sob and a scream of intense pain. Kathryn felt her knees buckle as she slid down the wall and ended up sitting on the floor as sob after sob ripped itself out of her chest. She wrapped her arms around her sides, hugging herself tightly, desperately trying to hold herself together when it felt like each cry was ripping her apart. 

She wasn’t even sure what she was mourning. The loss of her mother and sister? Her friendship with Chakotay? Her old life? All she knew was that every single part of her soul was in agony. 

She looked up as the doors opened and through eyes full of tears saw a blissfully empty corridor. Forcing herself to stand, she used the wall for support and counted off doors in her head. 

_One. Only twenty more steps, Kathryn._

She watched the tears drip off her chin, splattering onto the deck, leaving small wet spots in her wake. 

_Two. Ten more steps. You can do it._

She glanced behind her as she heard the doors to the lift shut and then heard a hum as it started back up the tube. Her stomach gave an uncomfortable roll and she realized what was going to happen. She needed to hurry.

“Three,” she managed to whisper as she pushed the panel to unlock the door. It made a grinding noise as it opened that suggested that all was not perfectly right with its mechanism but it managed to open all the way as she practically fell inside. She managed to take in the room quickly, noting somewhere in the back of her mind that she must have been assigned officer’s quarters because there was only one large bed. In the far corner was a door which she could only hope was a bathroom. 

Kathryn pushed herself towards it and discovered that it was in fact the facilities just in time. She felt the bile rising in her throat and threw herself towards the toilet and proceeded to lose all of her meager dinner. She vomited again and again until even the bile and stomach acid had run out and all that was left was air. Finally, she slipped to the floor, curling herself up into a ball between the toilet and the shower. She blindly reached her arm up the wall, eventually finding the panel that would allow her to close the door. Her fumbling caused her to find the button that started the shower before the correct one, and she left it running, not caring right now about the finite resources of the ship. She moved her fingers across the panel and finally found the right button. Kathryn heard the door close over the sound of the shower but registered nothing else as she surrendered herself to her grief and sobbed until she had no tears left. 

**Twenty Five Hours Earlier - May 18, 2379  
**

Julia and Owen Paris were sitting side by side on the sofa in their living room. Across from them sat a tall blonde man with hard eyes. All around them, men were swarming their house, looking for anything that might lead them to where Kathryn and Tom had gone. 

Owen wondered if they would ransack Gretchen’s place in Indiana as well, but then decided the answer was probably no. He knew that Katie hadn’t been back to Indiana in well over a month and Tom had been in their house less than 2 weeks ago. He threw his arm around Julia as he felt her bristle beside him when they heard something in the kitchen shatter. 

“Do they really have to go over the whole house like this,” she asked angrily. 

The man sitting across from them remained silent. 

“Julia,” Owen said quietly.

“No, Owen. It doesn’t make any sense. Tom hasn’t been here in over a week and even then it was just to drop off Miral! He stayed all of 4 minutes. It’s not like he lives here! What are you expecting to find,” she asked, turning her attention back to their intruder. 

“Proof, Mrs. Paris.”

“Oh, it speaks,” she exclaimed waspishly. 

“Proof of what, Commander,” Owen queried. “Like my wife told you, my son doesn’t live here. He wouldn’t have left anything with us.” 

“Oh, we aren’t looking for proof of your son’s guilt. We have plenty of that. We are looking for proof of yours.” 

“You think I helped them,” he finished quietly. 

“That’s exactly what we think.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Julia interjected. “We had absolutely no idea that Tom was planning to do something this stupid. In fact, he seemed better lately. I actually thought that he had turned a corner in the whole business until this morning.”

“Did you feel that way as well, Admiral? Did you think your son had ‘turned a corner’ to use your wife’s words?” The Commander was staring at him intently, watching his face closely for any sign of deceit. 

“No.”

“What do you mean, ‘no,’” Julia asked as she stared at him incredulously. “He was back to work. He was spending time with his friends again. He seemed better!”

“He seemed focused. Goal oriented. But I wouldn’t have described him as better.” 

“Well, that’s just splitting hairs,” she bit back in irritation. “He wouldn’t get out of bed before, Owen! He seemed majorly improved and you know it.”

At that moment, one of the other men entered the living room carrying a photograph. He handed it to the Commander wordlessly and then left. The Commander stared into the photograph for a few seconds, allowing the silence to stretch out until it was unbearable. 

“What is that?” Owen tightened his grip on Julia’s shoulders, hoping to will her back into silence.

“How close would you say your son is with Admiral Janeway?”

“She was his captain for seven years while they were stranded in the Delta Quadrant. The whole crew ended up being very close knit,” Owen answered noncommittally. 

“But they were closer than most.”

“I wouldn’t go that far - ” Owen started. 

“They’ve known each other a long time,” the Commander interrupted. He turned the photograph and handed it to him. Owen sucked in his breath quickly as he recognized it. It was one that usually hung in the upstairs hallway near one of the guest rooms; a candid shot taken while on vacation the summer before Tom turned 7. The photograph was of Tom on a beach, dressed in a black bathing suit with a skull and cross bones emblazoned on the thigh. In it, he was mid-cartwheel and a much younger Julia was standing beside him with a shocked look on her face. Standing next to her, laughing triumphantly with one hand thrown up to keep her long red-gold hair out of her face, was a 15-year-old Kathryn Janeway. 

In his memories of that vacation, Owen actually frequently forgot that the Janeway children had even been there. The Pattersons had come too and their children were closer in age to Tom and Suzanne, so they had spent most of their time together. Kathryn and Phoebe were older - 15 and almost 13 - and thus had spent most of the trip very differently from the rest of them. Kathryn had spent almost all of the 10 days studying for the Starfleet Academy entrance exam. Phoebe had spent them falling asleep on the beach under trashy magazines and flirting with the locals. 

But as he stared at the photo in his hands, that day came back to him like it had happened yesterday. He remembered that Gretchen had forced Kathryn out of their hotel room on their last day, ordering her to the beach. She had sulked a little for the first 10 minutes but then quickly fell more into the spirit of the day and by the time they had been getting ready to leave the beach for dinner she had taught Tom how to do a perfect cartwheel. Julia had taken Suzanne back up to the hotel for a nap during the afternoon and thus was totally surprised when her son had taken off across the beach and executed his maneuver perfectly. Edward had caught the moment with his antique digital camera and had gifted Owen the photo for Christmas that year.

“Where was this taken,” the Commander asked coolly. 

“Tau Ceti Prime,” Owen whispered. 

The Commander signaled to one of the men standing guard at the entrance to the living room. “Send a team to Tau Ceti Prime. Have them turn the planet inside out.”

“They would never go there,” Julia blurted out. 

The Commander slowly turned his head so that his attention was fully on her. “And why not, Mrs. Paris?” 

“Well - ” Julia paused, looking at Owen desperately. He met her eyes and shrugged. She might as well tell them. He was honestly shocked that they didn’t already know. “Because Kathryn would never choose to go back there. Not after the accident,” she finished finally. 

“Edward Janeway and Justin Tighe died in the polar ice cap on Tau Ceti Prime, Commander. Kathryn almost died herself. Surely her dossier contained that information,” Owen clarified. 

“All the more reason to look for her there. If it’s the last place that you can think of that they would go, then it would be an excellent place to hide.” 

Another anonymous officer walked into the room and whispered something in the Commander’s ear. A slightly disappointed look crossed his face but was quickly replaced by blankness.

“Well, Admiral, my team has found no evidence to suggest that you conspired with your son to do this,” he started, the seeming friendliness of his voice betrayed by the iron in its tone. “However, we will continue to monitor all communications in and out of this house and your office and we will have a man on you at all times. If your son or Kathryn Janeway try to contact you again, I’ll be the first to know. We’ll be watching, Admiral.” He flicked his eyes over to Julia and pulled his face into a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “You have a lovely home, Mrs. Paris. Have a nice day.”

With that he stood and strode out of the house, his team of goons following closely behind him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy, friends :) The Chakotay/Janeway Parent Trap begins next chapter!


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been so long but this chapter is essentially double length, so I'm hoping that will make up for it :) Enjoy!

_Love that is not madness is not love. ― Pedro Calderon de la Barca_

**May 19, 2379**

It took everything that he had in him not to follow her out of the mess and into the lift. Every single particle of will power and self-denial was dedicated to sitting perfectly still in the seat that he was in. 

_She doesn’t want your help. Not after what you did. She looked at you as a reflex._ Chakotay ran his hands through his hair forcefully, trying desperately to center himself. Instead, he couldn’t stop thinking about what Tom had said to him when Kathryn had stormed out of the cockpit of the _Flyer_. 

“I don’t know what the hell happened with you two, but you’re being an absolute dick and from what I’ve seen, she has literally been nothing but understanding and tolerant of you for this whole fucking trip. So I’m only gonna say this once: figure out how to be civil at least, or I will space your stupid, inconsiderate ass. It’s not her fault that you’re here,” Tom had practically hissed at him. He had looked even angrier than that time when he had yelled at him in the mess hall on _Voyager_.

Chakotay wasn’t sure why, but Tom’s words had been a significant shock. He had expected B’Elanna and Mike to meddle and say something but he had never once thought that Tom Paris would throw himself into their conflict. He supposed that it was because he had never really considered he and Tom to be friends. They were friendly, certainly. Tom had married B’Elanna and so they had ended up spending a lot of their free time together. But he never would have asked Tom to help him move or to go out for a beer without B’Elanna there. He had wondered if it was the strength of Tom’s friendship with Kathryn that had forced him into action or if Mike was right about his friendship issues and Tom really did have a different view of their relationship than he did. 

The shock and embarrassment of having been chastised by Tom-fucking-Paris had managed to tamp down the anger that he had been using as his driving force to stay out of Kathryn’s life and he had found himself trying to be much less aggressive with her for the remainder of the trip. When they had arrived on Epsilon IV and he had watched B’Elanna reunite with Miral, he hadn’t been able to stop himself from admitting to her that he understood why they had done what they’d done. 

She had looked at him with shock followed by gratitude but when hope had crossed her face, he had suddenly remembered why he was angry and why he had made the choices he’d made. He’d felt the self-loathing and the betrayal reassert themselves and within seconds he was strong again. He told himself that this was what was best for both of them. The fact that it looked like it was ripping apart both of their souls didn’t matter. Maybe this way they at least wouldn’t take other people with them. 

Unfortunately, his subconscious seemed to be having second thoughts. It was like temporarily opening himself up to her again had reminded his spirit of what she meant to him, of who she had been to him, and it refused to shut up about it. 

He stared down at the slice of cake in front of him. He couldn’t bring himself to even take a bite. She had looked so broken when the Doctor had brought it out to her and - _No. You’re letting her go. She isn’t yours. You’ll destroy each other and anyone who comes near you._ This was his mantra now. He would repeat it as many times as he needed to until he believed it again. 

Chakotay picked up his fork and stabbed at the cake violently. He got it halfway to his mouth before he sighed and dropped it back on the plate, pushing it away from himself. He scanned the room and finally spotted Mike talking to Dalby and Chell across the room. Pushing himself up, he made his way over to them. 

“Hey, I’m going to find Harry and see if he can tell me where I can get some sleep.” 

“Okay, man,” Mike answered. “You alright? I’ve never seen you turn down cake.” He glanced at Chakotay’s essentially untouched plate and then flicked his eyes back to his face.

“Yeah, just tired. And I’m not a huge fan of Jiballian fudge cake anymore. Sad memories, you know?” 

“Right,” Mike returned noncommittally. 

“Okay, well - see you.” He turned awkwardly and headed off to find Harry, finally locating him in the kitchen. 

“Chakotay,” Harry cried enthusiastically, pulling the much larger man into a hug. 

“Harry,” Chakotay returned with much less enthusiasm. “How many glasses of ale have you had?”

“Not many,” he hiccuped.

“Right. Listen, I was wondering if you could tell me which room is mine? I’m exhausted.” 

“Absotutely, I can!” Harry grabbed the PADD off the counter and seemed to struggle to get it to turn on. Chakotay reached over and tapped the wake button. “’s better,” Harry mumbled to himself. He watched Harry stab away at the PADD for a few seconds before he finally looked back up at him. “I have located your room, Commander,” he began formally. 

“Just Chakotay is fine, Harry,” he replied quietly. Silence fell between them. As it stretched out to several seconds, he realized that Harry was going to need a hand. “Are you going to tell me where my room is?”

“Right,” Harry yelled loudly. “Deck 4, room 6,” he finished more quietly. 

“Thanks, Harry,” he said, clapping him on the shoulder. He turned to walk out of the kitchen and paused. “Maybe you should think about turning in, as well.”

“Yes, sir!” Harry brought himself up into attention and then almost fell over as he gave in to a fit of giggles. Chakotay grabbed him before he could hit the ground and at that exact moment, Tom came into the kitchen. 

“There you are, Harry,” Tom called. “I’ve been looking all over for you! What’re you doing in here?”

“Telling Chakotay about his room,” Harry snickered. “He says he’s sleepy, so I told him where to go.”

“Did he tell you the right room,” Tom asked Chakotay. 

“No idea.”

Tom pulled the PADD out of Harry’s hands and skimmed what looked like a ship’s schematic. “Looks like you are in room 6 on deck 4. If you go out this door, and down the hall to the left, there’s a lift at the end just around a bend. When you get to deck 4, it should be the fourth door on the right.”

“That’s what he said too. Well, with fewer directions,” Chakotay replied, glad that Harry wasn’t so drunk that he couldn’t read anymore. 

“Good. I’ll take him off your hands,” Tom said to him, sliding an arm under Harry to bolster him up. 

“He’s pretty drunk, Tom,” he returned uncertainly. “Are you sure you’ve got him?”

“Oh yeah,” Tom answered. “We’ll pour three or four cups of coffee into him and he’ll be fine! Go get some rest.” He turned to look at Harry, who was still snickering quietly. “Come on, lightweight. B’Elanna wants to arm wrestle and I think that you are the perfect amount of drunk for that.”

“Yes,” Harry yelled again. “Let me at her! Death before dishonor!” 

Chakotay was left shaking his head and laughing quietly as the two men disappeared back into the mess hall. He crossed from the kitchen into the corridor that ran along the outside edge of the ship and found the lift at the end. By the time he got to deck 4, exhaustion had set in. Even though he had slept for several hours on the _Flyer_ , it still hadn’t made up for the stress of the last 30 hours. The fact that his sleep had been less than restful certainly hadn’t helped. He shook his head slightly so that he wouldn’t dwell on his dreams. 

He finally arrived at his new quarters, eyeing the wall above the panel to check that a Klingon six was emblazoned above it. He pressed the open button and heard the mechanism grind against itself as it worked to open the door. 

“Well, we’ll have to fix that,” he mumbled to himself as he entered the room and watched the door struggle shut. Once inside, he took a quick look around and stopped short when he realized that there was only one bed. _Gonna be cozy_ , he reflected and then he felt himself freeze. 

There was a black duffel bag sitting on the floor next to the bed.

Only two people on this ship had a black duffel bag; Tom and - _Oh, no._

Suddenly, he registered the sound of the shower running and then heard it turn off. _Oh dear god. They put us in the same room._

He wanted to run. He was willing his legs to move, to get himself out of here before she came out, before she saw him in here, but it was like he was welded to the bulkhead. He watched in abject horror as the door to the bathroom slid open and Kathryn stepped out, dressed in a pair of loose flannel pants and a long sleeve shirt that was several sizes too big while toweling off her still damp hair. She had only managed one step into the room before she spotted him and froze.

“Chakotay,” she forced out. She stared at him, eyes as big as dinner plates. “What are you doing here?”

His mouth was incapable of making any sound at all. It was like his whole brain was broken. He watched her as several emotions ran across her face in quick succession before settling on resignation. 

“Oh,” she breathed quietly. “I did promise that you could yell at me when we got here, didn’t I?”

She crossed the room to the desk, running the towel forcefully through her hair before finally folding it and laying it carefully on the desk top. She dropped into the chair, placing both hands flat on the table and staring at her fingers for a moment as she drew her knuckles up towards her and then pushed them back down, sliding her fingertips along the smooth surface. She finally forced her eyes up to him again. “Well, have at it. You’ve waited long enough.” 

He had known her for so long, that she couldn’t fool him. Anyone else would have seen the fully put together former captain of _Voyager_ , even if she was currently in her pajamas. She put on a good front and no one could lie like Kathryn Janeway. 

But he saw the truth. The bravado couldn’t hide the intense pain in her eyes, and he knew that the way that she was holding her hands was to hide the fact that she was still shaking. Kathryn was broken. She had pulled herself back together some in the hour or so since she had left the mess hall, but she was still suffering. The fact that she was willing to let him hurt her even more broke his heart and he couldn’t stop himself from moving closer to her. 

“I’m not here to yell, Kathryn,” he finally managed as he arrived on the other side of the desk. How many times had they replayed this exact scene? Her sitting at a desk on a starship, he standing across from her. He wondered absently what his past self would say to him now. 

“Then why -” she started, confusion in her eyes. 

“Tom and Harry.”

“Tom and Ha - oh, god.” He saw the truth dawn on her. “This is your room too, isn’t it?”

“That’s what they said.”  
  
“I’m going to kill them.” She stood up with determination and started towards the door. 

“Kathryn, it’s okay. I’ll find somewhere else.”

“No, it’s not okay,” she replied, whipping back around to face him. “Those three idiots - because I am absolutely sure that B’Elanna had a significant hand in this - don’t know what the phrase ‘butt out’ means but they are going to learn tonight!” Her eyes were blazing with fury and he had to resist the urge to take a step back from her. 

“I told her to stay out of it. I told her that this was none of her business and did she listen to me? No. Of course not. Not B’Elanna Torres. Because B’Elanna Torres knows best. I’ll have the three of them scrubbing buildup off the plasma conduits with toothbrushes into the next decade!” 

She slammed her finger into the panel beside the door to open it. Chakotay heard the grinding noise again but this time, nothing happened. The door remained firmly shut. He watched her hit the open button again, this time holding it down for several seconds. Again, they could hear the mechanism grinding against itself when suddenly there was a louder noise, metal shearing against metal, and then silence. She slammed her fist into the door but nothing happened. 

He slid up beside her and pressed the button himself, more gently than either time that Kathryn had. This time only silence answered.

“I think you broke it,” he said quietly. 

“You think,” she answered sarcastically. 

Silently, he dropped to his knees and started searching for the door access panel. He heard her huff a sigh and then felt her drop down beside him. A second later, she found it. 

“Here,” she said, wedging her fingers into the groove and popping the panel off. The inner workings were a mess. The doors seemed to rely on a system of metal gears to work, rather than the hydraulics more common on Starfleet ships, and the problem was apparent almost immediately. Chakotay reached into the space and pulled out two pieces of what used to be a single large gear. Teeth from its mate were scattered through the opening as well. 

“Shit,” he heard Kathryn whisper next to him. He knew that she had come to the same conclusion that he had. There was no way that they could repair the damage from inside this room. Someone would have to beam them replacement gears or repair it from the outside. Until then, they were trapped. 

Chakotay saw her lean her forehead against the wall and heard her quietly counting down from 10. He felt a small smile forming on his face in spite of himself. For as long as he had known her, she had done this. Whenever she was particularly angry with someone, she always tried to take a moment and count herself down. She had told him in the beginning that it helped her recenter herself. It wasn’t until much later that had she explained why. When Kathryn had admitted that she was giving herself 10 seconds to contemplate homicide, he had laughed so hard that he’d almost thrown up. 

He managed to wipe the smile off his face just as she got to one. She didn’t pull her forehead off the bulkhead, just turned her face slightly so that she could look up at him and then, rather disconcertingly, said in a clear, quiet voice, “Tom.”

“I don’t know how we’ll get a hold of him -” he started, but she shook her head slightly. 

“Thomas Eugene Paris, you answer me this instant,” she said more loudly, her voice full of steel. 

She paused for a second, like she was listening to someone. 

“Chakotay and I seem to be trapped in room 6. I need you to come down here and find some replacement gears so that we can open the door.” 

There was another pause and then her face bloomed into anger again. 

“What do you mean, no? Don’t try to tell me that everyone is too drunk, Mr. Paris.” 

She winced like someone was yelling in her ear. 

“Okay, so _Harry_ is too drunk but you sound fine - ” She paused again and huffed an irritated sigh. 

“Well, then send the Doctor! He can’t possibly be drunk. I don’t care that he’s watching Miral! I’m asking him to repair a door mechanism, not go hand to hand with a Cardassian. Goddamn it, Tom, you cannot leave us in here until morning! Tom! Tom!” She stood up quickly and stalked away from him, back towards the bathroom. “Damn him,” she mumbled forcefully. 

“Would you like to tell me what the hell just happened,” he asked. 

“Tom says that everyone is too drunk to help right now and that the Doctor is watching Miral and cannot be torn away from that duty.”

“Yes, I gathered that. How are you talking to him?”

“Oh. Some of the future tech from the Admiral was a new communication system. The Doctor put a chip in our brains and now I can hear Tom and Harry in my head if I need to talk to them,” she replied, waving her hand as though what she had just said was nothing. 

“Because that sounds safe,” he snarked. 

“Well, the Admiral had one in her head and seemed fine -”

“Oh yeah, she seemed totally fine,” he interrupted, voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Look, I don’t agree with everything that she did either, but she thought that she was helping us -”

“I don’t want to talk about that woman!” He hadn’t even realized he was yelling until he registered the shock and the pain on Kathryn’s face. 

“Okay,” she drawled uncertainly. 

“Sorry,” he said quietly. He rubbed his hands across his face forcefully, then dragged them through his hair. “I’m just tired. I haven’t slept well in months.” 

“Well, it looks like we’re stuck here.” She had changed the subject but her voice was cautious, halting, like she was afraid that he would explode again. “So, you should get cleaned up and I’ll put the bed together. We can sleep in shifts tonight. You sleep first.” 

“Kathryn, how long has it been since you slept?”

“I’m fine.”

“Kathryn - ”

“I said I’m fine, Chakotay!” Her hands flew to her hips in fury. “Can no one on this goddamn ship mind their own business!” 

“Fine! Sorry I asked.” 

They stared angrily at each other across the room for moment, before Kathryn closed her eyes and rubbed at the spot above her eyebrow that he knew always hurt when she got a migraine. 

“I’m sorry too,” she started. “I can’t remember when I slept last.” 

“Then you should sleep first,” he replied.

“Thank you for the offer, but I’m too keyed up to sleep. I’ll be fine. I promise.”

“Okay.” He decided to let the matter lie. He tossed his head towards the bathroom. “Do you think there’s any hot water left?”

“Should be enough for you at least. Maybe not for the rest of them, but serves them right,” she said with a devilish smirk that didn’t quite reach her eyes. 

“Right,” he returned, grinning back. “Mind if I borrow some stuff? I don’t have anything yet.”

“Actually, you might,” she pointed to the far corner of the room. “That stuff was here when I got here. I figured they beamed it in when they sent my bag down. Check and see if it looks like the stuff you selected.”

Chakotay walked over to the pile and found that it was in fact the things he had picked from the replicator. Several changes of clothes, some toiletries, a new pair of shoes, and a pair of pajama pants were all neatly folded in a pile next to the bed. Underneath were the sheets and a blanket for the bed. Two pillows rounded out the pile. 

“Well, it seems they’ve thought of everything,” he said, grabbing the pajama pants, a pair of boxers, and the toiletries from the pile. “I’ll be quick,” he murmured as he passed her on the way to the bathroom. 

“Do what you need to do,” she replied. 

He closed himself in the bathroom and started the water for the shower. He stared into the mirror with unseeing eyes as he thought about everything that had transpired in the last 2 days. If he was honest, he would have bet that the Kazon would invade the Alpha Quadrant before he would have put money on him being on a starship with Kathryn Janeway again. 

And yet, here he was. On a Klingon warship. Trapped in a bedroom with her. 

_Who did I offend so seriously in the spirit world to be tortured like this?_ He shook his head and stripped, showering quickly and then shaving with a real razor for the first time in over a year. He quickly ran the clippers he had replicated through his hair as well, shearing off the year of growth and leaving his hair more like he had worn it on _Voyager_. When he looked back into the mirror, he sighed in relief. After a year of feeling like he was looking at a stranger, he finally looked like himself again. 

It wasn’t until Chakotay was getting ready to leave the bathroom that he realized what he’d done. He always slept shirtless. He simply got too hot if he tried to sleep in anything more than just bottoms and so he hadn’t replicated anything else. That meant he was going to have to go back out there - back out into a bedroom with Kathryn - shirtless. 

“You’re a fucking genius,” he said sarcastically to his reflection. 

Fortunately, by the time he opened the door, she had already dimmed the lights. She was back at the desk, facing away from him and reading a PADD when he emerged. He was so focused on watching her that he missed the mess on the floor until he tripped over the covering for an access panel. He glanced back and realized that she had prized open the one that covered the mechanism for the bathroom door while he was in the shower. 

“The gears aren’t the same size,” he heard her say nonchalantly. 

“And if they had been,” he asked as he continued towards the bed, hoping against hope that he would make it before she decided to look up. 

“I would have come back with the replacement ones and let you out eventually,” she quipped. 

“After you murdered Tom?” He dropped his prison uniform and toiletries on the floor next to the bed. He’d made it. 

“Yes, after that.” She glanced up at him with a grin just before he could get into bed and he heard her suck in her breath before she fixed her gaze back on the PADD. 

“Sorry,” he apologized as he slid himself under the sheets as quickly as possible. “I wasn’t thinking.” 

“It’s fine,” she answered. “Sleep well. I’ll wake you in around five hours.”

He groaned. Five hours was not going to be long enough. 

“I know,” he heard Kathryn say. “It’s all we’re going to get though.” 

“I’ll manage. Good night, Kathryn.”

“Good night.”

He rolled over and was almost instantly asleep. 

He opened his eyes and he was in the forest by his parents’ house on Trebus. He could feel the wind in the trees and the warm sunlight was dappled by the leaves of the canopy. Chakotay turned as he heard a familiar cry behind him. A beautiful hawk was winging towards him and lighted on his shoulder, rubbing its head against his jaw and chirping quietly. 

“ _Um pitu, Sewa_ ,” he whispered into her feathers. “I’ve missed you, little sister. I’m glad you’ve come.”

She nipped his ear in response and then took off again, flying a little in front of him and landing on a branch of a nearby tree. She chirped again and when he started walking toward her, she took off again, landing on a tree slightly further away. 

Chakotay followed his spirit guide through the forest and suddenly found himself on a rocky beach. He glanced around for a few seconds before he realized where he was. It was the beach at Point Diablo in San Fransisco. It had never been a popular spot for cadets, despite being relatively close to the Academy, because the surfing was bad and the beach was rock rather than sand, but he had gone there often to be alone while he had done his Starfleet training. As he looked around, he noticed a lizard sunning itself on a rock. As he watched it, the creature turned to him and opened its eyes. They were a startling shade of blue. 

“Hello,” he said to the lizard, smiling at it. “Who might you be?”

The lizard blinked once and then skittered off its rock and moved to sit on a piece of driftwood next to his guide. The two animals looked at each other for a few moments and then his hawk reached her head down and stroked the body of the lizard the same way that she had grazed Chakotay’s cheek when she had greeted him.

“A friend, I see,” he remarked aloud. “Welcome, _kwaatsi_. I am honored that you have chosen to travel with us.”

The two creatures started moving and Chakotay followed, walking up the path that would lead him back towards the road. When he got to the top of the hill, he discovered that instead of finding the road, he had emerged into a clearing. It also looked remarkably familiar. He followed his guide and new friend as they led him down another path that suddenly opened onto a river. In a flash, he knew exactly where he was. New Earth. They had brought him to New Earth. 

“ _Sewa_ , I don’t want to visit this place,” he begged the hawk. She seemed to sense his distress as she came to light back on his shoulder. She ran her head against his face again and then took off, coming to land on a large overturned log near the river. He could see that the lizard was already there, sunning itself again. 

As he watched, a second lizard appeared. It was almost identical to the first, except that it appeared older. It was a lighter color and one of its hind legs had been damaged at some point. It crept slowly up the log and came to rest near his spirit guide’s legs. 

Suddenly, the older lizard made direct eye contact with him and opened its mouth to reveal a row of terrifying fangs. With incredible speed, it darted towards his guide and jumped, sinking its teeth into the soft flesh of her chest. As soon as it had bitten her, the lizard seemed to die, dropping off her chest and landing on the ground, insensible. He watched in horror as blood welled up from the many wounds in his hawk’s chest, staining her pale feathers a vicious crimson. He had started towards her, hoping that he could assess the injury, when it happened. Faster than he could get there, she darted towards the first lizard and pinned it to the log with one of her talons. The creature cried out in surprise and pain, but his guide didn’t seem to care. 

“No, _Sewa_ ,” he yelled. “It wasn’t that one that hurt you!”

She turned to stare at him for a moment and then brought her beak down in force, impaling the lizard through the neck. Blood spurted out of the animal, spraying Chakotay with it. Startled, he wiped the blood from his face just in time to see his spirit guide realize what she had done. He watched her drape her wings over the corpse of the younger lizard as she gave a cry that was so mournful, it almost split him in two. 

A bang woke him with a start. He sat straight up in bed, heart hammering, as he tried to remember where he was. It all came back to him suddenly when he saw the source of the noise. He was on an old Klingon Bird-of-Prey and was trapped in a bedroom with Kathryn Janeway. 

In the glow of a small light set into the ceiling above the desk, he could see her sprawled in the chair in a deep sleep. The PADD that she had been reading when he had fallen asleep had slipped out of her fingers and landed with a clatter on the floor, which must have been the noise that woke him. He stared at her for a few seconds and then sighed, swinging his legs out from under the sheets. She was sitting in the chair like a rag doll, her neck tilted at an odd angle and one of her arms hanging off the side, her fingers pointing at the floor. He couldn’t let her sleep like that. Her neck would never forgive her and she would have a migraine all day. 

“Kathryn,” he said when he was across the desk from her. She didn’t even stir. “Kathryn,” he repeated, more loudly this time. Still nothing. 

“Katie,” he tried experimentally, knowing her parents had called her that for her whole life, but nothing happened. She was dead to the world. He came around to her side of the desk and picked up the PADD from the floor. He glanced at the clock on it and saw that he had only been asleep for a little over an hour. 

Chakotay sighed as he ran his hands across his face forcefully. He really wasn’t ready to wake up, although he also wasn’t eager to get back to his dreams. He had been having nightmares involving his spirit guide for months but the addition of the lizard was new. He really needed to go on a vision quest but he hadn’t been allowed to have his medicine bundle in prison and now he was on the other side of the quadrant, so retrieving it seemed unlikely. Maybe he would ask Kathryn in the morning if she minded him replicating a new _akoonah_. He would have to find new items of importance for the rest of the bundle but it would at least be a start. He needed to understand what his spirit guide was trying to tell him. 

He stared back down at Kathryn’s sleeping body and suddenly made a decision. They were being ridiculous. The bed was gigantic, bigger than a king size, and they were two adults. They could share for one night. Sliding one arm under her knees and placing the other across her shoulder blades, he lifted her out of the chair easily. Her head came to rest against his bare chest and he finally felt her stir. Her eyes came open slowly and she seemed shocked to find herself so close to him. 

“Chakotay,” she asked sleepily. “What’s going on?”

“You fell asleep in the chair, Kathryn.”

“Oh. Is it my turn to sleep in the bed?”

“I’m making an executive decision and we’re just going to share.” He felt her stiffen in his arms but he was almost to the bed and so he just continued forward, laying her down and covering her with the sheet. 

“I don’t - ” she started, propping herself up on her elbows as a prelude to sitting up.

“Kathryn, it’s fine.” He brought his hand to rest lightly on her shoulder, as encouragement to stay where she was. “The bed is huge. We probably won’t even know that the other person is there.”

She continued to stare up at him, eyes still wide and her face still very uncertain.

“It doesn’t bother me, if it doesn’t bother you,” he stated and saw her relax a little. “It’s not like we haven’t had to share before.”

“Right,” she mumbled. 

He wondered which time she was thinking of as a far off look entered her eyes. For some reason, Hanon IV had been the first thing that popped into his mind - holding her close to him to keep her warm near one of their fires, his face buried in her hair. For the millionth time, he was grateful that humans couldn’t read minds. He blinked the memory away and looked back down at her to find that she still seemed wary and uncertain. He pulled his hand away from her shoulder and tried not to think about why it felt like his palm was on fire.

“It’s going to be okay, Kathryn,” he said as he started around the bed so that he could crawl in on the opposite side. He slid under the sheets and she rolled onto her right side to face him. 

“You’re sure,” she asked quietly, her voice barely more than a whisper.

“I’m sure,” Chakotay returned with more confidence than he felt. 

“Okay.” She rolled over onto her left side, leaving her back facing him. “Good night,” she mumbled. 

“Good night.” 

A few minutes later, he heard her breathing change as she surrendered to sleep once more. With a sigh of relief, he rolled to face away from her and was asleep again almost instantly. He had no more dreams that night. 

**One Hour Later**

“Well, Harry’s down,” Tom announced to B’Elanna, as he walked into their quarters. “He’s going to have a hell of a hangover in the morning. Thank heaven for modern medicine. What in god’s name are you doing?” 

B’Elanna was standing on the bed in their room and had her ear pressed up against the bulkhead. 

“Listening,” she answered quickly. 

“Listening for what,” Tom asked curiously, hopping up onto the bed and pressing his own ear to the wall. He listened for several seconds but didn’t hear anything. “I don’t hear anything, B’Elanna.”

“Neither do I,” she said with a grin, pulling her ear off the wall and dropping herself down onto the bed. 

“This is a weird experiment then,” he replied as he came down to join her. “Are you drunker than I thought?”

“I don’t think ‘drunker’ is a word.” 

“It’s a word.”

“I don’t think so.” 

“B’Elanna, answer the question.”

“Certainly.” There was a long pause as she seemed to be thinking. “What was the question?”

“What were you listening for in the next room?”

“Oh, right,” she replied. “Sounds of violence. Or sex. Or both.” 

“I am so confused right now.”

“That’s where we put Kathryn and Chakotay.”

“Oh. Oh!” Tom suddenly glanced back at the bulkhead. “Why did we put them so close to us? Are we absolutely sure that they don’t have something in there that she could turn into some kind of plasma cutter?” 

B’Elanna snorted when she laughed. “Yes, I’m sure that they are stuck in there for now.” 

“Good,” he said, relaxing a little. He threw his arm over his wife’s shoulders and started running his fingers from her ear down her neck to her shoulder and back as he drew her closer to him. 

“So what does silence in the other room mean,” he asked quietly.

“Well, it means they aren’t fighting,” she offered. “Or I guess, that one or both of them is dead.” Tom stopped his travel down her neck suddenly as they both seemed to reflect on the odds that they might not find both of them alive in the morning. “I think that’s highly unlikely,” she finished eventually, and he allowed his fingers to resume their course.

“I can’t believe you convinced the Doctor to go along with it,” Tom mumbled against her lips as he leaned in to kiss her. 

“Are you kidding,” she shot back between kisses. “He’s wanted them together from the beginning!” 

Tom wasn’t sure why, but the idea of their holographic doctor secretly hoping that his commanding officers got together struck him as impossibly funny. He started laughing into her mouth, eventually having to pull away to get himself back under control. 

“What’s so funny,” B’Elanna asked. 

“Idea… Doctor… Captain and Commander… Even a hologram thought they should be together!”

“That is kind of funny,” she admitted. “But I’m not into funny right now, flyboy.” She ran one of her hands up his inner thigh and it sobered him like a pot of black coffee. Suddenly, he wasn’t into funny right now either. “The Doctor agreed to watch Miral for us and so I am not giving up an opportunity to fuck you senseless,” she finished, stroking him lightly over his pants. 

Tom felt himself twitch at her words and dove back towards her, placing a searing kiss on her lips. 

“Have I mentioned how much I missed you,” he gasped when they came up for air as he pulled her shirt up over her head. 

“Only about a thousand times,” she replied with a smirk as she sank her teeth lightly into his chest. 

He groaned in answer and reached between them to stroke her nipples through her bra. Her gasp had him rock hard immediately. 

“Better show you how much I missed you then,” he growled, flipping them and pinning her beneath him. “Lights,” he called, but nothing happened. “Lights,” he repeated. 

“ _Hurgh_ ,” B’Elanna bellowed and the room went dark. 

“I’ll have to remember that one,” he said, then he felt her hands on him and his entire brain went blissfully blank. He didn’t spare Kathryn and Chakotay a single thought again until morning. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anyone wondering:  
> 1\. Harry's use of the word 'absotutely' is 100% intentional and not a typo. He is very wasted.  
> 2\. Chakotay is speaking Hopi to his animal guide (I think - please correct me if google told me lies)  
> 3\. Chakotay and Kathryn end up in the same room because they took lifts down on opposite ends of the corridor. Thus she approached their room heading aft (making it the third room on the left) and he came at it heading fore (thus the fourth door on the right). There are 6 rooms on either side of the hall.  
> 4\. B'Elanna uses the Klingon word for "be dark" to turn the lights off.  
> Hope this clears up any potential confusion! Happy reading!


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Buckle up, kids. This fucker is long. I'm hoping to be able to return to chapters of a more reasonable length soon. Thanks for bearing with me :)

_I think honest love is less about how much you would do for someone, and more about how long you would wait, unable to do anything at all, to do it. - Tyler Knott Gregson_

**May 20, 2379**

The first thing that Kathryn’s brain registered as she struggled back to consciousness was warmth. Delicious, impossible, incredible warmth. Warmth that seeped all the way through her skin and muscles and settled into her bones, like a bath at the perfect temperature. She made a little sound of happiness as she snuggled deeper into the mattress. She really didn’t want to wake up yet. She hadn’t slept this well in years. But something was telling her that she needed to wake up. Some niggling detail had her subconscious shouting at her but she just couldn’t put her finger on what it could be. 

Her eyes worked themselves open and then rapidly squinted mostly shut again. Light streamed in through the viewports and she was startled to see how bright it was. It had to be after 1000 at least. As she slowly let her eyes adjust to the light in the room, she suddenly registered the tanned forearm in front of her. 

As if her brain was totally unprepared to accept what it knew must be happening, she forced herself to count the hands in front of her. _One. Two. Three. Definitely three hands._ Her left arm was curled up under her head and its hand was visible where it had extended itself from under the pillow. Those fingers were interlaced with bronze ones and her right arm was extended along the dark forearm, the fingers of her right hand lightly resting against it. She felt her breath catch in her chest as the sensations from the rest of her body caught up with her eyes. 

The warmth of Chakotay’s hand laced with hers. The light pressure from his arm laying against the bared skin of her waist where her shirt had ridden up some while she slept. The weight of his leg thrown over one of her own and pushed up against the other. The rise and fall of his chest pressed against her back. His nose buried in her hair and his breath raising goosebumps on her neck. 

For a split second, she was completely engrossed in figuring out how they had ended up in bed together in the first place. The last thing she remembered was him falling asleep and her reading up on the ship’s systems, trying to form a plan of attack for the morning. As she wracked her brain, the memory finally came to her. Waking up with her head against his chest when he picked her up because she had fallen asleep in the chair. His face firm in his resolve as he told her that they were being stupid and that they wouldn’t even notice they were in bed together. 

Clearly, that had proved to be an incorrect assumption. 

_We must have found each other in our sleep_ , she thought in shock. 

Then she was hyperventilating. 

She tried to control herself. Tried to hold her breath, or at least slow it, but there was nothing that she could do. Her brain was screaming, _get out, Get Out, GET OUT! Before he wakes up. Before he blames you for this. Before this somehow gives him another reason to hate you._ The realization of what would happen if he woke up with her like this was better than a bucket of ice water and re-centered her. She finally managed a deep steadying breath as she forced herself into action. 

Kathryn flexed her fingers gently and started to pull them as slowly as she could manage from his. At the same time, she started sliding her left leg out from under his right. She had just managed to get her fingers and most of her leg free when he moved. She froze as she heard Chakotay groan and felt him roll slightly. Relief flooded her system. He was rolling away from her. She could feel his arm sliding across her waist and the part of her leg that had still been trapped under his was free. She was going to get out of this without waking him and get to go have a very small nervous breakdown in the privacy of the bathroom.

And then she was wrong. 

So wrong. 

He was wasn’t rolling away. He was rolling _over._ And he was taking her with him. His hand snaked under her hip, fingers gripping gently as he tipped her over onto her back. She watched his hand slide up her torso and under her shirt, coming to rest on her ribs. She felt him pull his left arm out from under her pillow and watched him throw it across his face to block the ever increasing light in the room from his eyes.

_You have to move, Kathryn._

As fast as she dared, she slid her legs away from him and towards the edge of the bed. When she located the edge with her feet, she extended her left arm, grabbing the mattress tightly. Using her legs and hand as an anchor, she slowly started to pull herself away from him. Centimeter by centimeter, she pulled herself along, gauging her progress by the location of the tips of his fingers on her torso. The first pull had moved them to her sternum. The second forced them further right, resting atop the slight swell of the bell at the bottom of her rib cage. 

_One more._

She pulled gently and felt his hand fall away from her entirely. He groaned again when his hand dropped from her body and Kathryn decided that the time for moving slow was over. She rolled herself the rest of the way off the bed with speed and practically ran into the bathroom, sealing the door behind her. 

Kathryn pressed her back to the door, resting her head against it, eyes on the ceiling. _What the hell was that_ , she thought. She dropped her hands to her knees, pulling herself forward until she was doubled over as she took deep steadying breaths, her brain desperately trying to right itself, to understand what had just happened. 

The breathing didn’t help. In the tiny space of the bathroom, she realized that a whole night spent in his arms had caused her clothes, her hair, even her skin to smell like him. She had always loved the way that he smelled. 

It had come as an immense surprise. She had never been obsessed with the way someone smelled before. At first, she had thought that he simply wore more cologne than other men she knew. 

That this was the reason that she could smell him across the mess hall. 

Or in the turbolift after he was gone. 

Or over the scent of her coffee when he sat with her in her ready room. 

But the first time they had played Velocity together, she had discovered that she was wrong. There was no cologne. It was just him. Warmth and spice and something like sandalwood and cinnamon. It was intoxicating. She’d almost thrown a round because she had been so focused on him instead of the disk. It had been one of the hardest things about sharing their tiny shelter on New Earth. Everything smelled like him. 

Forcing herself upright, she allowed herself a single moment of weakness, gathering the wide collar of her shirt in her hand and pulling it toward her nose and inhaling deeply. God, she had missed that smell. Slowly she dropped the shirt back down to rest on her chest and then turned an eye to her reflection. She looked like a crazy person. Her hair was a rat’s nest, her eyes still rimmed in dark circles since even her longer than expected rest hadn’t been enough. And her face - her face was frantic. 

“Pull it together, Kathryn,” she ordered. Stepping forward to the sink, she ran the faucet and splashed cool water on her face and then brushed her teeth. With a sigh, she grabbed her brush and started on her hair, raking it through the tangles mercilessly. Each stroke through her hair served a purpose. She focused on the task and forced herself to hear some truth with each pass. 

The things that happened in their sleep last night were nothing. 

It was probably just how he slept when there was a woman - any woman - in his bed. 

It meant nothing and she would treat it that way. 

The fact that it had felt - right - natural - was neither here nor there. 

It was nothing. 

Over and over and over, she repeated these phrases until finally her hair hung down past her shoulders, shiny and smooth. The face that stared back at her from the mirror seemed better now. Still tired but not insane. Not broken. And that was all that mattered. Nothing had happened last night. She wouldn’t even mention it unless he did and, even then, she was the only one awake enough to know exactly how they had been sleeping. And she’d lie through her teeth about it, if she had to. 

Decision made, she moved on to her next problem. They were still trapped in this room. Considering how raucous the party had sounded when she had tried to talk to Tom, she figured that most people were likely still asleep. A wicked grin crossed her face as an idea started to form. Realizing that Chakotay would probably need to be awake for her to put her plan in motion, she unlocked the bathroom door and strode out into the bedroom. 

“Good morning,” he said, glancing up at her from a PADD. He was still in bed but was mercifully fully clothed. He had his pillow propped up against the headboard to support his back and had clearly been skimming the ship’s schematics that she had been going over last night when she fell asleep. 

“Morning,” she answered, settling on as neutral a tone as she could manage. She crossed over to the nightstand that she had tossed her duffel bag under and placed it on the bed to find clothes for the day. She had just settled on a pair of black work pants and a burgundy top when she heard him clear his throat. 

“Sorry about last night,” he started and her head snapped up of its own accord. She stared at him in terror for a split second before he continued. “I think I must have been kind of a bed hog. I woke up less than a meter from the edge on your side.”

Kathryn gave an internal sigh of relief. He didn’t remember them tangled up together - legs and arms and hands and everything touching like people far more intimately acquainted than they were.

“No big deal,” she recovered quickly. “I don’t ever take up much space anyway. Mark said he never could understand how it could be comfortable to sleep curled up in a tiny ball, but that I managed to do it every night so it must work somehow.” She paused for a second before adding, “I’m sure you remember.” 

They had only been bedfellows a handful of other times and each of those times had been out of absolute necessity. They had slept fitfully and little and almost always as far apart as possible, with her curled into a ball in a corner of whatever they happened to be sleeping on. Only once had they come even close to an intimacy similar to that morning and that had only been out of desperation. 

In spite of the fire that her hair had helped create, she had been freezing that first night on Hanon IV. He had managed to watch her toss and turn while shivering uncontrollably for half an hour before he snapped. She still remembered the look on his face as he had dropped unceremoniously in front of her and drawn her into his arms, pulling her flush against him despite her protests. She fought him on it for a few minutes, threatening everything from injury to court-martial, before he had finally told her in no uncertain terms that it was his duty as first officer to ensure that she didn’t freeze to death out of sheer pigheadedness. The firelight had played across his face as he informed her that Tuvok had agreed with his plan to keep her alive and would wake them before anyone else so that no member of the crew would get the wrong idea about them. The last sentence had been delivered with a look of incredible sadness and, although she could never have admitted it to herself, it had broken her will to keep fighting him. Instead, she told herself that she was too tired and too cold to argue and had simply rolled herself so that they were both facing the fire rather than each other and fallen asleep. 

But even that night had been nothing like this morning. 

She shook her head slightly and forced herself back into the present. “The bathroom’s free if you need it.” 

“Thanks,” he replied, almost a whisper. She returned her eyes to the contents of her duffel bag, purposefully refusing to watch him climb out of the bed that they had shared, and only looked up from her luggage when she heard the snick of the bathroom door closing. 

A quiet sigh escaped her lips. He didn’t remember holding her in his sleep. _Thank god for small mercies._ She dressed quickly, folding her pajamas up and sliding them under the pillow like she had always done. Determinedly making the bed, she hoped that not having to look at rumpled sheets would help her stop thinking. When she was done, she cast a look around the room. Spotting the wardrobe, she decided that she might as well unpack. She wouldn’t put her plan for their escape into motion until Chakotay was done in the bathroom and he seemed to be taking his time. 

Kathryn pulled the few clothes and single spare pair of boots from the bag and stowed them quickly. She hadn’t brought much with her, since packing like they were leaving forever would have definitely aroused suspicion when she and Tom boarded the _Flyer_. She had brought only things that she absolutely couldn’t stand to leave behind. 

She pulled her copy of Dante out of the bag next and placed it inside on one of the other shelves. A book of poetry by Elizabeth Barrett Browning and her father’s worn _Collected Works of Shakespeare_ followed it. A PADD of holoimages emerged from the bag next. She had realized after they were lost in the delta quadrant that she had no photos of her family with her. Not one image of her father, mother, or sister. Only a single photo of her and Mark and Mollie and a lifetime of solitude ahead of her. She wasn’t going to let that happen this time.

She dropped onto the bed as she scrolled rapidly through the family photos of Christmases and vacations, important occasions and everyday scenes. She and her father at the Grand Canyon. A rare photo of her when she was only five or six, wrapped in an apron and helping her mother bake something in their kitchen. Swinging a new tennis racket at Phoebe in front of the Christmas tree. Laughing on the beach as her father dipped her mother into a deep kiss just as the image had been captured. 

Newer images followed. Tom, Harry, Chakotay, and her during a night at Sandrine’s, a pool cue in her hand and a look of triumph on her face. The mess hall, decorated for Prixin, her arm draped over Seven’s shoulder. Tom and B’Elanna’s wedding. She, her mother, and sister on the front porch of her childhood home after her return, laughing at some story her mother was telling. Phoebe’s children cuddling one of Mollie’s puppies. The whole _Voyager_ crew, smiling and laughing uproariously in front of the ship, the Golden Gate in the background, still shocked and relieved to be home.

As Kathryn scrolled through them all, tiny glimpses at memories from her life, a single silent tear escaped and tracked down her cheek. But it was the final image that took her breath away. She didn’t even remember selecting it as one that she would bring with her. 

She stared in shock at her own younger face in profile, turned away from the imager, laughing hysterically. She was wearing a green sundress emblazoned with white flowers and a pink lei was draped around her neck. Her right hand was resting on Chakotay's chest, her left still tucked into his arm and he was staring down at her with such adoration and joy. Seeing it now was like being sucker punched. 

Neelix had given it to her just before he left for the Talaxian colony. Not knowing about the surprise that they had planned for his departure, he had stopped by her ready room to say goodbye and had handed her a PADD from the depths of his bag right as he turned to leave. 

“Couldn’t forget this,” he’d said, as he handed it across her desk. 

“Recipes for your many ‘better than coffee’ substitutes, Neelix,” she’d asked jokingly. 

“Oh no, I gave up on finding something to beat coffee a long time ago, Captain,” he had replied with a wry smile. “It’s just something that I’ve been hanging on to for quite a while. Something to remind you about what’s important out here. It never really felt like the right time before, but something tells me that it is now.” He had paused and nodded quickly, a large smile covering his face. “Good luck, Kathryn Janeway.” 

She had added the PADD to a pile of reports and in her haste to beat him to the cargo bay had forgotten all about it. She hadn’t looked at its contents until she had been packing her things on _Voyager_ after they had returned home. 

After it was already too late. 

She flicked the PADD off, but the image had burned itself into her retinas. She knew that Neelix had meant well. That he had meant it as a way to show her how Chakotay felt about her. To make her see what she was missing, as though she was oblivious to his feelings. As though she didn’t know exactly what she was giving up making the choices that she had to make. 

She had always thought that he knew too. That he knew that she loved him but that she couldn’t be with him and be Captain Janeway at the same time. She couldn’t count the number of nights that she had spent after they made it home wondering if she had been so good at pushing him away that he thought she didn’t care anymore or if he had just decided that she wasn’t worth the wait. Almost as many as she had spent later trying to figure out when he had decided that they had stopped even being friends, she realized. 

Kathryn stood up from the bed and placed the PADD in the wardrobe on top of the Shakespeare and placed the duffel bag inside on the floor. She had had enough of unpacking for now. She pressed the door shut with finality, allowing her hand to linger on it for a moment. “Enough,” she whispered to herself. “Let it go.” 

“Any progress on the door,” he asked as he emerged from the bathroom a second later. 

“Not yet, but I have an idea. Brace yourself,” she said, forcing a smirk onto her face as she turned towards him. Opening the connection in her mind, she took a deep breath and then yelled, “HARRY SEO-JUN KIM!” 

The utter cacophony that erupted in her head combined with the look on Chakotay’s face sent her into fit of laughter. She heard a scream and then a thump that she assumed was Harry falling out of bed. A string of curses that would make a sailor blush followed. 

“Harry Kim, you answer me right now,” she barked as she pulled herself together. 

“Kim, here,” she finally heard. 

“Chakotay and I are trapped in the bedroom you cajoled us into. The gears on the door are damaged and so it won’t open. Now I don’t care who you have to wake up to do it, but you will have us out of this room in less than 30 minutes. Do I make myself clear?”

“Incredibly, Kathryn.” She heard a soft groan and felt the tiniest bit of pity well up inside her. 

“Get yourself to the Doctor for a hangover cure first, Harry.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied. “Kim out.” 

She made eye contact with Chakotay, wondering if there would be another outburst about the future technology that she had in her brain but only found him staring at her with the very beginning of a grin on his face.

“I had no idea that his middle name was Seo-Jun,” Chakotay stated drily. 

“Oh, I made it a point to know everyone’s full name, just in case.”

“Just in case of what,” he asked curiously.

“In case I needed to middle name someone for something particularly horrendous,” she returned quickly with a smile. The smile faded as she added, “or ensure the spelling was correct on their death certificate.” 

They stood in a shared silence for a moment, each reflecting on the crew members they had lost along the way. There was a unique intimacy to the grief - a sadness and responsibility that could only be shared by the two of them. 

“We did the best that we could with what we were given, Kathryn.”

She could feel her eyes widen slightly in surprise. His response was shockingly soft and kind, a gift that she was unaccustomed to after so much hostility between them. It was so surprising that all she could manage was a tense, wordless nod in acknowledgment before she turned away. Picking up the PADD from last night, she drifted over to the desk, needing to put some space between them. Glancing up, she saw him settle back on the end of the bed. 

“Any idea where you want to start,” he offered into the silence. 

“We need to get the cloaking system up and running, but the shields also need a total overhaul. They were a rather large chink in the armor of this particular class of starship, as I’m sure you’re aware,” she responded, grateful for the change of topic and unreasonably glad that he seemed to be interested in repairing the vessel. 

“And the bedrooms,” he added quietly. 

“Yes,” she returned, her voice equally muted. “If there are even issues with them at all,” she continued more loudly. “I intend to get it out of Harry when he arrives. I’ll bet that they’re all fine and this was just a ruse to get us in a room together.”

“You really think that they would go that far?”

“You don’t?”

She watched as Chakotay seemed to think about it and then pursed his lips and tilted his head sideways in silent agreement with her point.

“Actually,” she started, bravely, “I was wondering if maybe you could help me with duty assignments for the day. You know their strengths and weaknesses better than I do.”

His head snapped up to look at her and she immediately regretted the sentence. 

“Or I can just ask B’Elanna,” she corrected quickly, dropping her eyes back down to the PADD. _Stupid, stupid, stupid_ , she thought to herself angrily. _You were doing so well and then -_

“Yeah, I can help,” she heard him reply softly. Kathryn watched in shock as he pushed himself off the bed and came to stand in front of her. 

“Do you have a PADD or some paper or - ” he paused significantly and she realized that she was still gaping at him in surprise. 

“Right,” she forced out, louder than she had intended. Grabbing a blank PADD she started a list. “I think that I’ll have Harry, B’Elanna, and I start on the cloak. And Tom, Mike, and Marco can work on the shields. We cracked two landing arms and did some hull damage when we landed here and so a team should probably start work on that and then another can work on the bedrooms if there really is an issue there.”

“Is everything on board in Klingon?” 

“Yes. All readouts and all automated announcements.”

“Has that been a problem?”

“Not yet, but it probably will be. My Klingon is conversant at best,” she replied with a slight grimace. 

“Doesn’t the Doctor’s program have a translation subroutine built in?”

“Yeah, but I don’t see how that helps us.”

“Well, Anne was our computer technician on the _Val Jean_. I bet that if she and the Doctor put their heads together they could have the ship speaking Standard in no time,” he said with a smile. 

“Excellent! I’ll put them on that.”

“And Jor is an incredible engineer. She, Dalby, Tabor, and Gerron could start on the landing arms.” 

“That leaves,” she glanced back down at the list of names quickly to make sure she wasn’t missing anyone, “Chell, O’Donnell, Murphy, and you without an assignment.” 

“O’Donnell, Murphy, and I can work on getting all the quarters habitable. And someone has to watch Miral, so that can be Chell’s assignment.” 

“Babysitting duty?” She arched an eyebrow at him.

“Trust me when I tell you that it’s the safest place for him.” 

She barked a laugh and then clapped a hand over her mouth. “Sorry,” she said quietly. 

He just grinned at her unrepentantly. 

A knock on the door interrupted them. 

“Kathryn, Chakotay? Are you there?”

“We’re here, Harry,” she yelled back. “Do you have the stuff?”

“I brought every gear from the door in my room, so let’s hope so,” came the muffled reply. “I’m going to open the access panel on this side. If you’d like to open the one in there, I also brought some coffee that I can pass you.”

“Bless you, Harry,” Chakotay yelled as Kathryn hurried over to the panel and prized it off the wall. 

A second later, a mug appeared in the largest hole left by the damaged gears. She passed it up to Chakotay and then grabbed the second one. Taking a deep inhale, she brought it to her lips and sighed deeply. 

“Better, Kathryn?”

She looked through the hole to see Harry staring at her. 

“Much,” she returned with a smile. “Now get us the hell out of here.” 

The rest of the day went off without a hitch, despite almost the entire crew having to be treated for significant hangovers. By the time they broke for the day, they had managed to repair both landing arms and make significant headway on the hull and shields. New components were already being replicated for the new shield generators and she was fairly sure that her team would be ready to start on test components for the cloak by the end of the day tomorrow. Anne and the Doctor were also optimistic that they would be able to have the ship speaking Standard by the end of the week. Most importantly, Chakotay’s team had managed to make all 12 cabins habitable, so the two of them wouldn’t have to share anymore. 

Sitting in the mess hall, eating a surprisingly delicious stew that Anne had prepared while she and the Doctor worked, Kathryn realized that she felt truly hopeful for the first time in days. She glanced up from the PADD she was reading while she ate and looked around. While far more subdued than their last dinner here, everyone still seemed to be in good spirits. Harry was playing peek-a-boo with Miral while B’Elanna tried to force stew into her and a card game had been started in the far corner. She couldn’t tell who was playing because it had drawn quite a crowd. Far away from the card game and the rest of the team, Chakotay sat quietly eating his stew. She had hoped that maybe after today he would seem happier to be here, but it seemed that he was going to continue to isolate himself. Their more positive interactions from the morning must have been more about self-preservation and less about acceptance, she thought sadly. 

Realizing that she suddenly wasn’t hungry anymore, she decided to turn in. They would need to get a much earlier start tomorrow if they wanted to get off this planet before they were all old and gray. Picking up her mostly empty bowl and PADD, she strolled over to B’Elanna. 

“I think I’m going to call it a night,” she said without preamble. 

“Are you sure, Kathryn,” B’Elanna returned without looking up from Miral. “It’s still pretty early.”

“Yeah, I’m exhausted. I didn’t sleep well last night,” she lied. She’d slept fantastically. The waking up had been the issue. “Can I trust you to make sure that we don’t see a repeat of last night?”

“I swear I’m never drinking again,” Harry interjected. 

“Famous last words, Starfleet,” B’Elanna shot at him. 

“B’Elanna -” Kathryn started. 

“Yes, Kathryn, I promise,” she interrupted. “No drinking and carousing until three am again. Scout’s honor.” 

“What kind of scout would that be,” Kathryn asked with a grin.

“Maquis scout?”

She shook her head with laughter and walked into the kitchen to wash her bowl and spoon. 

Kathryn had just gotten back to her quarters when her door made an angry buzzing sound. She paused for a moment, trying to figure out what is was, when it happened again. 

“Kathryn,” she heard through the door. Realizing that the noise must be the Klingon door chime, she crossed back over to it and opened it. 

“Sorry, I didn’t realize what that noise was,” she apologized. 

“That’s okay,” Chakotay returned. They stood in silence for a few seconds, before he ducked his head and tugged on his ear. “I’m, uh, I’m here for my stuff.” 

“Right,” she replied, realization dawning on her. “Come in.”

He slid past her into the room and crossed into the bathroom to grab his toiletries before picking up the bundle of clothes on the floor where he had left them. He glanced around briefly, like he was checking to make sure that he had everything and then returned to the door to leave. 

“Kathryn,” he started, just as he crossed the threshold. 

“Yeah?”

“I was wondering if I could ask for a favor?”

“Go for it,” she replied, intensely curious. 

“I was wondering if you would mind if I used the replicator on the _Flyer_ tomorrow to make a new _akoonah_? I haven’t been on a vision quest in over a year and it’s really starting to show.”

“Oh,” she exclaimed. “Wait here, I have something for you!” She turned away from his very confused face and flew to the wardrobe. With everything that had happened she had almost forgotten about it. She pulled the duffel bag out and tossed it on the bed, rummaging through the few remaining contents until she found it. Practically running back to the door, she thrust a small package into his free hand and almost as an afterthought whispered, “don’t be mad at me.”

He stared down in shock at his medicine bundle. 

“How - ” he started.

“I went to your apartment,” she answered, her voice barely a whisper. “The day they came for you. I was too late.”

Memories flashed through her mind in rapid fire. Tom screaming as they hauled away B’Elanna. Flying into Owen Paris’s home office and using his transporter pad to get as close as she could to Chakotay’s new apartment on Market Street. Running down the sidewalk, lungs and legs burning, praying she would get there first. Taking the stairs two at a time and ramming her fist into his door only to find it open and him gone. They hadn’t even had the decency to make sure the door latched on their way out. The cup of tea on his table was still warm. 

She had intended to leave right away. To go home, change into her uniform, and then go rain down hell at headquarters. But a logical part of her mind told her that they weren’t coming home tonight. That her people were in this for a while. And she hadn’t been able to stand the idea of some stranger touching things of his that were important if they had to go into storage during a trial. His medicine bundle had been sitting on a shelf in his living room. _He wouldn’t want a stranger to touch that,_ she had thought, drawn towards it like a moth to flame. Almost in a trance, she had taken it and gone home, closing his door firmly behind her. 

“I didn’t want it to get lost or to have someone open it without your permission. So I took it to keep it safe. I didn’t open it or even touch it more than I had to,” she spilled out as fast as possible. “At the time,” she paused and swallowed hard. “At the time, I thought that it was better that a friend touch it and keep it safe. I’m sorry if that was wrong. If I’ve - tainted or - ruined - this one, then by all means, replicate a new one.” She couldn’t look at him. Couldn’t stand to see the look in his eyes if he was angry. 

“You brought it with you,” he said, sounding dazed. 

“We didn’t know who was coming,” she explained. “Only how many. And even if you hadn’t ended up with us, I figured I could get it to Sekaya for you and then you would have it when you got out.” 

He was silent for a long time and she finally found the courage to look up at him. He was staring at the medicine bundle in his hand and tears streaked down his face. 

“Chakotay,” she whispered. 

“Thank you. I don’t - thank you. You have no idea what this means, Kathryn.” He looked up at her, eyes full of gratitude and something else that she couldn’t pin down.

“It’s okay then? Okay that I took it? Handled it?”

“Yes. You’re right that it’s much better that it was you than someone else.”

“Good.” The relief that she felt was palpable. 

He wiped his face on his sleeve and gave her a small, watery smile. 

“Well, good night, Kathryn. And thank you again.”

“Good night.” The door closed between them, silent thanks to its new gears and Kathryn sighed in relief. 

_It was a good day,_ she thought as she brushed her teeth before falling into bed. She wondered briefly what he had meant about her being the one to handle his medicine bundle, but then sleep took her and she thought of nothing else. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for hanging in so far everyone! Sorry this update took a little time. I took a few days off to read Kate's book Born With Teeth and then needed 24 hours to recover. Thanks for reading :)


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, it's another long one, kids.  
> Just as a reminder, all temperatures are in Celsius.  
> You'll find some phrases you recognize in here. No copyright infringement is intended and I'm not trying to take credit for them. They are present simply for context.

_That day, she was amazed to discover that when he was saying "As you wish," what he meant was, "I love you.” - William Goldman_

**May 27, 2379**

The first week passed quickly. Everyone pushed towards their common goal, giving the work their all, then came together for meals and laughter, only to fall into exhausted slumbers before waking to do it all over again. It had been surprisingly easy to slip back into a Starfleet rhythm, rising early and retiring late, full of the satisfaction that came from a job well done. While Kathryn had insisted that everyone call each other by their names and not their rankings from _Voyager_ , she was still clearly the captain of their vessel and the leader of their band. She occasionally deferred to B’Elanna or Tom or even Mike, but she was the one with the plan and the one ultimately calling the shots. Not that anyone seemed to mind. There was a strange comfort in being back on a starship under the command of Kathryn Janeway and Chakotay could tell that he wasn’t the only one who felt that way. 

However, between the many conflicting feelings associated with working with her again and the revelation that she had rescued his medicine bundle after he had been arrested, he had felt strangely off-kilter for the whole week. It was like the universe had somehow fundamentally shifted and he was now situated in a spot that was both exactly the same and totally different. There had been no time for a full vision quest yet, but just having his bundle back in his possession had seemed to change his focus and push his feelings into an area that he hadn’t wandered anywhere near in over 6 months. He had realized only yesterday that what he was feeling was the beginning stirrings of peace. 

He had been even more unbalanced when it became apparent that she was keeping her distance from him ever since the night they had spent trapped together. At first, she had managed to make it seem unintentional. As though it was coincidental that he never ended up on a project with her. 

She had started by working on the cloaking generator with Harry and B’Elanna, while he had been assigned to the team repairing the hull plating after his original team had finished with the crew quarters the first day. 

A few days later, Chakotay began working with Mike on updating the phaser banks and Kathryn shifted to helping Jor and her team modify the warp core. 

She adjusted the environmental control systems; he repaired plasma conduits. 

He recalibrated the maneuvering thrusters. She reprogramed the guidance system. 

By Saturday, he realized that it had to be intentional. She had somehow managed to assign herself to almost every project, including spending an afternoon on babysitting duty watching Miral, but had never once assigned the two of them to the same project. She had worked with literally every other person on the ship but him.

He had seen her at meals, of course. And on the rounds that she did daily to assess everyone’s progress and determine what needed to be done next. In fact, the only thing that she had done consistently, other than give him his space, was ask him the same question every day. 

It didn’t always come at the same time. 

On Monday, she asked him at breakfast, before he had even had a chance to get his food - like the question was so burning and urgent that she couldn’t stand to let it wait even for a second. 

The next three days, she had asked him during her afternoon wanderings while she checked in on whatever project he was working on, drawing him away from the others in his group to ask it in a low voice - like the question and the answer were a secret that only they could share. 

On Friday, she had managed to wait all the way until after dinner, just as he was leaving the mess hall and headed to bed, while strolling down the corridor with him - like it was unimportant, an afterthought barely worth giving breath to. 

And while the time and the place and the tone that it was delivered in changed often, the question itself never did. 

“Have you decided where you want to go, Chakotay?”

“Not yet, Kathryn.”

“Well, let me know when you decide. I’ll get you wherever you want to go.” 

So far, his answer had always been the same, as had her reply.

He had spent a great deal of time thinking about that question and, when paired with her distance from him, what its significance was. Was it a sign that she wanted him gone? That she was so eager to be rid of him that she couldn’t wait to find out where and when it was going to happen? Or was there something else buried in it? 

Chakotay paused at the top of the gangway and sighed as he took in a deep breath of fresh air. Today was Sunday and Kathryn had declared a day of rest for the whole crew. 

“Even God rested on Sunday,” she had quipped, although only Mike, Colm, and the Doctor had laughed. The resulting extended explanation of the Biblical background of her joke had left her with nothing but puzzled faces, especially from the half-Klingon and the three Bajorans, and so she had eventually just told them all to forget it. The point, she had emphasized, was that no one was allowed to work today. She wanted Tom and B’Elanna to be able to spend a whole day with Miral together and felt that everyone needed some time to decompress and relax, preferably off the ship. 

Fortunately, Epsilon IV was a veritable paradise. The climate was temperate, falling only to about 6 degrees at the coolest point of the year and never getting above 35, even on the warmest summer day. Plant and animal life was abundant, although the plants that thrived were more blue than green due to the fact that the nebula bent the light towards the UV spectrum. The purple sky was clear during the day but hazy at night, obscuring their view of the stars but occasionally lit up with brilliant reds or oranges as an explosion occurred in the nebula. It would have been the perfect site for a colony, if it weren’t for the fact that it was situated deep within an extremely dangerous cloud of volatile gas.

Tom had landed the _Fawkes_ in a meadow of teal grass that was bordered by mountains on one side and a huge, crystal clear lake on the other. Scans of the water had shown it to be safe for the crew and there had been no signs of anything larger or more dangerous than a sport salmon in it. 

As Chakotay strolled down the gangplank he could already see that most of his crewmates had decided to take advantage of the lake. Anne and Olandra had spread themselves out on the beach, soaking up the natural sunlight after days of being trapped inside. Further down, Mike, Colm, and Ken appeared to have challenged Harry, Marco, Ian, and Chell to a game of soccer. Across the meadow, he could make out Alik and Ral sitting on a blanket, clearly involved in a Bajoran prayer ceremony. Mariah was in the water, swimming laps up and down the shore, while Tom and B’Elanna splashed with Miral in the shallows. Even the Doctor lounged nearby, a book in his hand. Only one person was conspicuously missing. 

He wondered for a moment where she was, but decided that it was none of his business. Maybe she had decided that she would prefer to nap instead. Or, more likely, she had kicked everyone else outside to relax while she sat on the bridge or in her quarters reviewing new data and planning their next week. As he hit the grass, he paused for a moment and glanced back at the door. He could go back inside and find her. It was a small ship, so it wouldn’t take long. He could guilt her into coming outside with everyone else. As quickly as the thought formed in his mind, he brushed it away. Kathryn was a grown woman and what she did with her free time was her choice. Besides, she probably wouldn’t appreciate it. Not from him. 

With a small tug of his ear, he turned away from the beach and headed for the mountain. He had replicated a small rucksack and had packed a blanket, lunch, and his medicine bundle. His plan was to find a nice quiet area of the forest and meet his spirit guide for his first vision quest since before they had arrived back in the alpha quadrant. 

Thirty minutes later, Chakotay found himself far enough up the mountain that he could no longer hear the sounds coming from the beach. He paused for a moment to revel in the near silence. The breeze rustling through the trees and the noises of the occasional creature combined with that inescapable knowledge that everything around him was alive and vital brought Chakotay firmly into communion with the life force of the planet. It was something that he had sorely missed in all of his time in space. This feeling of being connected so strongly to something that was literally bursting with life. 

He walked for a few more minutes before he found a small clearing that he decided would be perfect for his lunch and his quest. He dropped the rucksack on the ground and drank deeply from the canteen inside it before he pulled the blanket out and spread it on the ground. He made quick work of his simple lunch - bread, cheese, and some fruit that the Doctor had procured from Kronos - and then removed his medicine bundle. 

With reverence, he unrolled it, relishing in the feel of the smooth leather against his fingers as it revealed its contents. One at a time he held each of his items of importance, reflecting on what they meant to him, on how they had come to be in his possession, and on how they had shown themselves to be something to be included amongst his most treasured possessions. Slowly he spread them out around him and then lastly picked up the _akoonah_. He ran his hands across its face, reacquainting himself with it and letting it become used to him. It was an extremely sensitive instrument that would become attuned to the user over time. Time apart from it would cause it to lose some of that connection and would result in quests that were less clear. And he had been absent for over a year. Chakotay hoped that the fact that his spirit guide had continued to visit him in his dreams meant that his connection with the spirit world was not entirely severed and wouldn’t have to be rebuilt completely from scratch, but he couldn’t be sure. This would be the true test. 

He placed the instrument in front of him on the blanket and then quickly touched each of his soul objects before placing his hands on the _akoonah_. Focusing on the river stone his father had given him, he drew a deep breath and then allowed his eyes to flutter closed. 

“ _A-koo-chee-moya_ ,” he began quietly, “I am far from the sacred places of my grandfathers and from the bones of my people. But perhaps, there is one powerful being who will embrace this wanderer and give him the answers that he seeks.” 

For a long moment, there was nothing but silence. He kept his eyes firmly closed, not wanting to scare his guide off. Then he heard it. A quiet rustle in the top of a tree behind him. Opening his eyes, he turned and found her sitting there, staring down at him. 

“Hello, _Sewa_ ,” he called up to her. She stared at him a moment and then turned away and began to preen her feathers. 

“Come, _Sewa_ , don’t be that way,” he pleaded quietly. “I know it has been a long time since I came to visit and I’m sorry. I brought you a gift.” He could see her watching him out of the corner of one eye as she continued to worry the feathers of her chest with her beak. He held out his hand, palm up, revealing some of the fruit that he had packed for his lunch. 

“Please?” She stopped her preening and looked down at his outstretched hand, cocking her head to the side in curiosity. Finally, she flicked her wings and descended from the tree. She plucked the fruit from his hand with a single swoop and then tossed it in the air, catching it in her beak as she landed on his shoulder.

“Hello, little sister,” he said again, stroking her soft feathers as tears escaped his eyes. He had almost forgotten what a comfort it was to visit with her. The familiarity of her weight on his shoulder lifted an incredible burden from his chest and he suddenly felt 20 kilos lighter. She affectionately nipped his ear and made a chittering noise. 

“I was in a dark place, _Sewa_ ,” he began to whisper. “A place where I couldn’t feel your presence. I fear that if I had been there any longer, I would never have been able to find my way back to you. I would have been lost.”

He looked at her and found her watching his face, head cocked again to listen to him, as though she was contemplating what he had told her. Suddenly, she launched herself off his shoulder and soared up into the air. She beat her wings and climbed higher and higher until she was so small, that Chakotay wasn’t sure that the speck he was watching was even her. 

“ _Sewa_ ,” he called uncertainly. “ _Sewa_! Come back! Please, little sister! I need to talk to you!”

He stared up into the sky frantically, trying to figure out what was going on when suddenly he spotted her. She was headed back towards him in a free fall, wings tucked close to her body, head pointed at the ground, diving down, down, down until she pulled herself up at the last possible second. Her chest skimmed the grass as she pulled back up and lighted gently on his shoulder. She repeated this performance three more times, flying higher up and further out each time, extending how long she was away from him but always returning to his shoulder. The final time, she pressed her head up against his forehead and suddenly in his mind’s eye he saw the clearing they were in. A red string was laced through the forest. It extended from his chest down to the ground and up to the sky, lacing through the trees, swirling around the branches in hundreds of patterns and shapes, before finally connecting to her chest. She pulled her head away and stared into eyes. 

“We are tied together,” he asked and she nodded. “No distance can tear that apart? Can nothing break the thread? I felt like I was losing you. Losing myself.”

She looked at him for what felt like an eternity. It was like she was searching for something inside him, looking for something that she could use to explain. She seemed to have found it because she took off from his shoulder again, coming to rest on a tree and calling to him. He followed her through the forest until they came to the edge of a desert. She flew into the barren wilderness, crying plaintively and then returned to him, landing on his forearm. She nipped his hand and he brought her closer to him so that she could place her head on his forehead again. 

An image flashed through his mind. He was staring out across the bridge on _Voyager_. When he glanced down, he could see that he was in his Maquis leathers, instead of his uniform. He barked an order and he turned to see that it was Tuvok, similarly attired, who answered. A memory from when Teero had brainwashed them. He could feel the hatred welling up inside himself, stronger and more encompassing that it had ever been, even before they had been drawn into the delta quadrant. Nothing else mattered. Only his anger at the Cardassians. Only revenge. 

He opened his eyes and felt her rub her face against his cheek. He realized that she was wiping away fresh tears. 

“Hatred can tear us apart. Obsession with anger? With revenge? It leaves me like this place? A desert with no place for you to rest.”

Her kind eyes stared back at him. 

“But, _Sewa_ , I have hated nothing, except the situation I was in. How could that have made me feel so lost?” 

She took off again and he followed, trailing behind her until they emerged in a corridor on _Voyager_. She flitted quickly down empty halls, making sudden turns, until abruptly, they were in a hallway that wasn’t empty. Chakotay stopped short when he saw both Kathryns standing in the corridor outside the Astrometrics lab. They were deep in conversation and his guide had landed on the shoulder of Admiral Janeway. She glanced for a moment at his Kathryn, who looked livid with her future self, before staring at the Admiral for several seconds and then turned to look back at him. 

Have you not hated her, she seemed to ask. 

“That’s different,” he whispered. She only cocked her head at him. “You know what she told me about the future. About myself and Kathryn. Well, her versions of us,” he amended. “It made me hate myself more than anything.” 

If the bird had had eyebrows, he knew that she would have raised one at him. As it was, she screeched at him the way that she always did when he tried to lie to himself. 

“Yes, okay, I’m sorry. I know that I hate the Admiral, too. I hate what she did to us. I _am_ grateful to her, I suppose, for getting us home, but she - ” He paused, unable to fully articulate what exactly he was feeling. “She destroyed me, _Sewa_.” 

She stared at him for a second and then took off again, leading him through more hallways until he recognized the corridor that led to his quarters. Stopping in front of his door, she waited for him to open it and then flew inside. He followed her and was startled to see himself kissing Seven. He wanted to turn away. While he was unwilling to think about why, he didn’t want to watch his first kiss with Seven, but before he could make a move, it all shifted. In the blink of an eye, it wasn’t Seven any longer. Instead it was a woman with wavy blonde hair and strangely shaped ears. In another instant, it was the former Borg, Riley, in his arms. Then Seska. Sveta. Allison. Tenaya, the first girl he had ever kissed. All women he had once cared deeply for. 

Then his arms were empty. Instead he was holding his medicine bundle. 

Chakotay watched himself walk out of his quarters and followed him and his spirit guide down the hall and into the turbolift, finally arriving at the ready room. She was there and he quickly realized what this was. The day she had asked about his spirit guide. 

“She thought you were a bear,” he said to his hawk with a laugh. She had come to rest on the railing between the upper and lower deck and was watching the other him and Kathryn as he explained the process of the vision quest. She chirped at him and then swooped to land on her shoulder. Chirping again, he realized that she wanted him to draw closer and when she placed her head against Kathryn’s forehead, he placed his fingers there too. 

Instantly, the three of them were on a beach. The other him was gone, but Kathryn and his guide were there with him. Kathryn was still talking to the other him, asking what she was looking for, when she was drawn to a log. Upon it sat the lizard from Chakotay’s dream. He watched in shock as it looked at her for a moment and then turned its eyes on him. Startling, brilliant blue. Just like his dream. _Just like Kathryn_ , he realized in a flash. _Of course. How could you be so dumb?_

“Her guide,” he stated quietly. In answer, his hawk swooped down and landed beside it, stroking the tips of her wing feathers along its back. 

With a jolt, they were back in the ready room. He removed his fingers from Kathryn’s forehead and turned to see himself staring at her with a look of awe and wonder. Chakotay felt a stabbing pain in his chest as he remembered this moment vividly. The moment that he had realized he was falling in love with her. 

“Please, little sister,” he begged quietly. “I want to leave this place. These memories hurt too much.” He spun back around and was shocked to find that Kathryn’s lizard had materialized in the ready room with them. The two guides stared up at him before glancing at each other. Quickly, the lizard scurried up his leg and torso, settling on his right shoulder. His hawk then took off and he followed.

As they wandered down the corridors of _Voyager_ , they became less and less Starfleet gray and more leafy green. Soon, they were clearly back in the forest and he breathed a small sigh of relief. But, when they emerged from the forest into a clearing, he was again faced with Starfleet gray. The shelter on New Earth. 

“No.” He stopped, refusing to be led into the tiny space. 

His hawk landed on the roof and eyed him critically. He could feel the lizard staring at him on his shoulder. 

“I won’t go in there. It hurts me to be here.” 

She screeched at him, flapping her wings angrily. 

“No, little sister,” he yelled back. “I don’t want to remember. It hurts to remember!”

She lifted off from the roof and flew straight at his face, talons extended. He closed his eyes and braced for the pain but it never came. When he opened his eyes, he found himself inside. He could see himself sitting at the table across from Kathryn. 

“I think we need to define some parameters - about us,” she said to the other him. 

“I won’t stay here.” He found his hawk’s eyes across the shelter where she was perched on a shelf. “You can’t make me watch this.” He turned away and started for the door, but she was suddenly in front of him, flapping her wings furiously and blocking his path. 

“I’m not sure I can define parameters,” he heard himself say to her. “But I can tell you a story.” 

“It hurts too fucking much, I said!” He tried to duck under her, to get to the door, but then the lizard bit his ear and before he even realized what he was doing, he had slapped it away. He watched in horror as it flew across the shelter, slammed into the wall, and landed on the ground. It was totally still. 

“The angry warrior swore to himself that he would stay by her side, doing whatever he could to make her burden lighter. From that point on, her needs would come first. And in that way, the warrior began to know the true meaning of peace.”

Above the body of the lizard, Chakotay watched his other self staring at Kathryn, willing her to understand, and saw the relief cross his face as she smiled at him. 

“Is that really an ancient legend,” she asked, with a small laugh to hide that she was holding back tears.

“No. But that made it easier to say.” 

He watched as they entwined their fingers across the table and felt his own twitch in response to the memory. It was like they remembered the feeling of her hand in his. Like it was a more recent memory than this. 

He felt the sob before he heard it. It had gathered itself from deep within him and brought him to his knees. Tears poured out of him as he cried out in anguish, mourning the loss of this time with her like when they had first been back on _Voyager_. The wound was open and bleeding again and it was like he could feel his life draining out of him. 

Slowly, he became aware of the feeling of feathers on his face. His tears slowed and then stopped and he opened his eyes to see her staring at him. 

“She broke me, _Sewa_. She hurt me over and over again. She had her parameters. Her rules. But that never stopped her from flirting with me. From touching me. From asking me to dinner. And I came to her again and again - like a dog that gets kicked and keeps coming back for more, hoping this time will be different. I flirted back. I accepted and coveted her touch. I showed up to dinner and to coffee and to drinks and to games of Velocity. And every time that I thought that maybe, just maybe, she had changed her mind, we would cross some invisible line that only she could see and she would shut down again. Shut me out. She let in Kashyk and he wanted us all dead or in prison. That prick Jaffen. Even that fucking Irish hologram. But not me.”

He sucked in a stuttering breath and looked around the shelter. It was mercifully empty, the visions of he and Kathryn having disappeared. The lizard still lay on the floor. 

“I thought I had let her go. Then the Admiral told me about what we did in her future. How we destroyed Seven and each other. She said we were toxic together.” 

He gasped as more tears started to flow. 

“But it didn’t feel toxic, _Sewa_. Once we were back on Earth. She was my friend again. She was fighting for me. And I saw it in her. I saw that she loved me again - or still.” He shrugged his shoulders and shook his head slightly, pushing the clarification away as unimportant. 

“And I realized that I never stopped loving her. But the Admiral’s warning - ” He swallowed hard, willing the words out of him. “I kept hearing it in my head. Toxic. Destructive. Deadly. So I did it. I pushed her away and I let her go again. And it was the hardest thing I have ever done. Harder than almost losing her to the delta quadrant all those times. Harder than the first time. I can’t - ” 

He collapsed onto the floor, forehead pressed onto the unforgiving Starfleet panel, gasping like he had just run a marathon. 

“I’m not strong enough, little sister.” He heard her chirp and forced his head off the floor. She was staring at him with sadness in her eyes and then flicked her head to look at Kathryn’s lizard on the floor. It had started to move again but was clearly seriously injured. He crawled across the floor and picked it up, cradling it in his hands. 

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered. “I didn’t meant to hurt you like this.” He felt his hawk land on his shoulder again and then press her head against his. 

His mind was on fire. Memories flew threw it so quickly, he wasn’t sure how he was even processing each of them. 

Kathryn forcing herself between him and Tom, staring him down, daring him to try something. 

Standing in her ready room in shock as she quietly asked him to merge their crews permanently and be her first officer, uncertainty crossing her face while she waited for his answer transforming into the most gorgeous smile he’d ever seen when he said yes. 

Her eyes as she stared down at him, her hand on his bare chest as she told him that she was so glad to have him back in his own body again. 

Walking to the cargo bay with her to see which of their crew would choose to stay behind with the 37’s, placing his hand on her shoulder and promising her that no matter what happened they would make it home. Trying to make her understand that he’d get her home, even if every single member of the crew was in there. 

Her smirk across the bridge as she joked that she’d be sure to defer to his expertise on mating behavior in the future. 

Her disappointment as she berated him for running off after Seska and his own shame at having hurt her. 

Sitting with her quietly as she spoke of the man who saved her life, who thought that she was his dead daughter, wanting so much to pull her into his arms and stroke her hair, but settling for simply listening instead. 

Faster and faster they raced through his mind. New Earth and her bathtub. Hanon IV and the fire. The wormhole collapsing behind the Ferengi and the abject sorrow on her face. Talking about Q’s proposition. The desolate planet and her lifeless body in his arms. Sailing on Lake George. A luau on the holodeck. Fights about the Borg and the Hirogen and the Devore and the void. Coming to himself suddenly and realizing that he was in some uniform other than his own; finding her later dressed completely in black, hair done up like a pin-up girl, looking exhausted and ridiculous and entirely irresistible. Holding her hand on the bridge in front of everyone before she invaded the Borg cube. Precious minutes shared across the console and in her quarters and her ready room. It was every single important moment of their relationship.

“You’re not alone,” he heard himself say over and over. A promise. A way of telling her he loved her when she wouldn’t let him say it for real. I’m here. I’ll stay. Whatever you need or want, I’ll do it. 

The memories shifted and he could see them. All the other women. Every single one that he tried to fill the Kathryn-shaped hole in his heart with. He realized suddenly that the perspective had changed and registered something else touching his forehead. Something cool and scaly. Her guide. These were her memories. 

And if his had hurt, hers were positively excruciating. 

Each woman brought a certain amount of pain but also resignation. A feeling that this was inevitable. That no man could truly mean and fulfill what she thought he was trying to tell her. Not without the certainty that she felt the same. And she had never given him that. Could never give it to him. The pain that came with Seven was almost unendurable; it was the only one truly tainted with betrayal and total hopelessness. 

The memories shifted again and he saw their life from her prespective. Many of the same scenes flew past but this time his head was full of conflict. Duty and desire, command distance and loneliness, fraternization and friendship, Starfleet and Chakotay, the Captain and Kathryn. Battles waged constantly and a realization of a total uncertainty of what it even looked like to win. Was this winning? Was this constant ache what triumph felt like now? 

He heard his words with fresh ears. “You’re not alone,” suddenly becoming a refrain that was two parts sweet and one part bitter. Because she _was_ alone in many things. Only she was fully responsible. There was no one else. And because she had seen it to be only part true. He could not be what she needed, because he could not know what she could not tell him. 

Chakotay saw her push him away again and again and felt for the first time what it cost her. Felt her tearing herself apart for the crew and the mission. Felt her fear that she would get them home but there would be nothing left of her. That Captain Janeway might make it back, but Kathryn might die out in the delta quadrant. 

He watched her cry silent tears in her quarters after they returned from New Earth. Felt her almost lean in to kiss him in the boat on Lake George. Heard the excitement, the hope, in her mind about the slipstream drive that had little to do with them being home and much to do with her finally being able to tell him the truth. Saw the absolute devastation that the failure caused. Felt the sharp pain that ran threw her like a blade when the Admiral told her that he’d married Seven of Nine. 

Just when he thought he couldn’t take it anymore, the memories changed again. These were newer and worse. Elation at being home coupled with devastation. Loss. Betrayal. Self-loathing, when she decided that she didn’t deserve to feel those things. Self-loathing becoming righteous indignation after they were all arrested, shifting to hope as they began to make real progress in the court cases. The loss started to mellow to resignation, although the feelings of love and longing never truly went away. 

Then it all came crashing down. He watched himself hurt her, felt the confusion and the pain that ran so deeply, he thought it would kill him. He saw her collapse on the floor in her apartment, sobbing until there were no tears left. 

When they released him, he was inconsolable. He cried for what felt like hours as he couldn’t stop thinking about all the pain they had caused each other over the years. 

“Toxic,” he finally managed to breath out, but when he opened his eyes, he saw her staring at him and knew she thought he was wrong. 

She moved to bring her head to his again and he flinched away. He wasn’t sure he could stand anymore. She hopped towards him and gently raised her wing, stroking it across his nose and down his chin. He could tell that it was a promise. This is the last, it seemed to say. He bent his head forward and felt her press against his forehead. 

He was home. On Trebus. He was 12 or 13 and sitting in the kitchen with his mother. 

“He says that his father is leaving,” he heard himself say to her. 

“That’s awful, Chakotay. I’m so sorry.” His mother stretched her arm out and took his hand. 

“He - ” The younger him paused, trying to figure out how to even make the words come out of his mouth. “Tenek said his father told him that he wasn’t in love with his mother anymore. He said they were bad for each other.”

His mother looked at him silently, waiting for the question that she knew was coming, but refusing to speak it for him, knowing that it was critical that he process it himself.

“Is it possible,” he almost whispered. “To be in love with someone and then not be? Or to be in love with someone but it be dangerous? Bad?”

“Yes.”

“So you and father - ”

“No,” she answered with finality. 

“But how can you be sure? If it’s possible, then surely anyone - ”

“It’s about truth, Chakotay.” He stared at her with a confused look on his face. “Tenek’s parents were bad for each other. They were never honest with each other. Love cannot survive dishonesty. It poisons it from within. It taints everything. Honesty can save it and honesty sustains it. Your father and I are truthful with one another. Truth means that the love is safe from the poison of deceit.” 

The word ‘truth’ rang through his mind like a bell, echoing and reverberating, and when he opened his eyes, he was back in the clearing. He could tell that it had been hours. His knees ached, his shirt was soaked with his tears, and it was becoming dark. He allowed himself several deep breaths before he offered up his thanks. 

“ _A-koo-chee-moya_ ,” he repeated, “I am far from the sacred places of my grandfathers and from the bones of my people, but I thank the spirits for allowing my guide to find me and offer me counsel. I take her advice into my soul.”

As he packed everything up, he pondered everything that their guides had shown him. His medicine bundle went into his rucksack last and he reflected on its contents. His soul objects had changed significantly over the years. He had added several new objects during the time they were lost and he thought about how so many of them were tied to her. He knew that no woman other than his mother had a more significant impact on his life than Kathryn. He stilled for a moment as he was lost in a wave of her pain again. He’d had no idea the true depths of her agony. Of what their voyage had truly cost her. 

Truth. That was what his guide had chosen to place in his mind as her parting wisdom. She seemed to believe that if they could be honest with each other that they would avoid the toxicity that the Admiral had warned him about. The question was, was he brave enough? Courageous enough to look her in the eyes and tell her the unvarnished truth about everything and deal with the consequences? 

“Yes,” he whispered. He swallowed hard and shouldered his rucksack. “Yes,” he repeated, strength and resolve in his voice this time, as he headed back down the mountain. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An important note:  
> The idea that I have presented here of what occurs in a vision quest is completely fictional. I am not native, nor have I ever been on a vision quest. I'm a very white, protestant lady living in New England. It's purely what I envision as being possible in an interaction with the spirit world. If my ideas are in any way offensive, I apologize and will happily rework the chapter. Just let me know.


	18. Chapter 18

_Why do we fall silent at the wrong times? Why do words fail us when we think they are needed most? Maybe it’s arms, maybe it’s shoulders, hands and eyes that say what words cannot, maybe we invented words because we forgot how to touch… - Tyler Knott Gregson_

**June 18, 2379**

“He’s getting faster,” Mike said over his shoulder to no one in particular. He was standing by the viewport in the mess hall, a cup of coffee in his hand, staring down at the lake. 

“Well, he ought to be,” B’Elanna fired back without looking up from where she was trying to get Miral to eat her oatmeal. “They’ve been at it for three weeks.” 

“Two and a half,” Tom corrected her, standing up from where he had been sitting to join Mike at the window. “He’ll never catch her. She’s way faster than he is and she’s been running forever.” 

“He’s got longer legs. He only has to take one step for every two - one and a half, maybe - of hers. He already manages to keep up with her past halfway now.” 

“I’m telling you that it doesn’t matter. No one catches Kathryn Janeway. When it gets to the point where he can keep up with her all the way around the lake, she’ll just start pushing to a second lap. If she doesn’t want him to catch her, she’ll run until she drops dead.” Tom sipped his coffee and shook his head. 

“Has anyone gotten it out of either of them what the hell happened this time,” B’Elanna chimed in. She had finally given up on getting the rest of the oatmeal into Miral, pulling her out of the high chair so that they could join the men at the window. 

“Nope. He won’t talk about it and I’m too afraid to ask her,” Mike replied with a shrug. He took a deep drink of coffee and shook his head. “They seemed to be making progress. They didn’t murder each other the night we trapped them together and they seemed to be less antagonistic for a bit. I mean, she brought him his medicine bundle, for god’s sake. Then suddenly this.” He gestured to the window where they could just make out Kathryn running along the beach away from the ship, Chakotay trailing a step behind. 

“Morning. They turned the corner yet?” Marco crossed the mess hall to stare quickly out the windows, absently ruffling Miral’s hair. “He’s getting faster.” 

“That’s what I said,” Mike returned as Marco headed for the kitchen. 

“Twenty credits says he manages to stick with her for the whole loop before the week’s out,” Anne offered as she sat down. 

“I’ll take that action,” Tom said, eyes still fixed on Chakotay’s back. “He won’t catch her. Not by the end of the week, not by the end of the month. He’s not a runner. I don’t care how much longer his legs are.” 

“What the hell happened with them,” Marco asked as he came back from the kitchen carrying two bowls of cereal. 

“Nobody knows except the two of them.” Huffing a deep sigh, B’Elanna shifted Miral on her hip and looked into her chubby face. “And your godmother and your uncle won’t talk to anybody about it, no they won’t.” 

“Have you tried, Tom,” Anne asked around a mouthful of cereal. “You and Kathryn - ” She paused to swallow and take a drink of water and then restarted. “You and Kathryn seemed to have gotten closer while you were planning on how to get us out. Don’t you think she would talk to you?”

“It’s not like that,” he said quietly. “We’re closer now, but it’s more like she’s my big sister or my terrifying aunt than my friend.” 

“Hmm.” 

“Morning, all.” Colm’s voice rang out as he entered the mess hall, heading straight for the window. “Christ, I’m late! She’s practically to the far side already! Although he’s coming along nicely, isn’t he? He’ll catch her by the end of the week.” 

“Twenty says he doesn’t,” Tom mumbled quietly as he leaned back to see around B’Elanna and Miral. 

“You’re on!”

“You know that even if you win, they can’t pay you, right,” B’Elanna asked in exasperation. 

“It’s about pride, not money, darling,” he joked, pecking her on the cheek and earning himself an eye roll in response. 

“I just wish we knew what happened,” B’Elanna said dejectedly as she watched her friends disappear around the bend in the lake. 

**Twenty-Two Days Earlier - May 27, 2379  
**

Kathryn groaned as she stretched her stiff back and neck. Standing up from the desk in her quarters, she wandered over to the viewport to glance out at the lake. While everyone else had followed her suggestion and spent the day outside relaxing, she had spent it in her quarters going over everything that they had done so far, trying to determine their best plan of attack as they moved into their second week of repairs and upgrades. She had been at it since 0800 and by 1600 her back and neck were killing her and she had a splitting headache starting. But, she reflected, she had made good progress. Everyone was assigned to teams and she had a plan of attack and several contingencies in place for the whole week. 

Turning her eyes to the sky, she decided that there were likely still several hours until dark, and so she decided to reward herself for her hard work and go relax with the rest of the crew. Slipping on her boots and pulling the Shakespeare out of her closet, she headed down to the beach. 

She quickly made her rounds, stopping to talk to each group, staying purposefully vague about what she had been doing for the whole day, but it wasn’t until she stopped to talk to Mike that she realized who was conspicuously missing. Her former first officer was nowhere to be seen.

“Have you seen Chakotay,” she asked quietly, so only Mike would hear. 

“Up the mountain,” he replied, flicking his thumb over his shoulder. “He said he was going to go on a vision quest.”

“Oh,” she replied noncommittally. “Good.” She turned quickly to walk away, purposefully avoiding the look that she could feel Mike giving her, when she paused. She turned slightly back toward him as the thought she couldn’t stop escaped her lips. “When did he leave?”

“A little before 1200? 1130, maybe.”

“He’s been gone for four hours?” The question came out louder than she intended. Harry’s head whipped up to look at her from down the beach and she angled herself away from him in embarrassment. “Should we go look for him,” she managed at a more reasonable volume.

“I’m sure he’s fine, Kathryn. He hasn’t been on a quest in over a year. Even when he was doing them more regularly, he could be gone for two or three hours at a stretch sometimes. Especially if he has something that he’s trying to work through. If he’s not back by dark, I promise that I’ll be the first man in the woods to go look for him.” 

Kathryn stared at him for a second and then felt herself nod. This was a situation where Mike really did know him better than she did. Even at their closest, Chakotay hadn’t shared much of his spiritual life with her, beyond some superficial explanations and the single, mostly failed, vision quest that he had led her on to find her spirit guide. They had been interrupted so early, that she wasn’t even sure if the lizard she had seen was her spirit guide at all. 

“Okay. Well, carry on,” she said and turned to head further up the beach. She spent the rest of the afternoon perched on a rock, seemingly enjoying the warmth of the sun on her skin and absorbed in the plot of _Twelfth Night_. In reality, the sun couldn’t thaw the irrational ball of dread frozen in her chest and she had been so distracted by it that she had read the opening lines a total of six times before finally giving up. She settled for staring at the pages unseeingly, remembering to turn them periodically while she watched the woods. 

When he finally emerged, it was almost full dark. She had abandoned the pretext of reading half an hour earlier and had started pacing the beach instead, staying out by the lake long after everyone but Mike had gone back inside. 

The second she saw him, it was like the thing that had knotted itself inside her chest hours ago let go and she almost passed out from the wave of relief that hit her. He was okay. Not hurt and dying in the woods somewhere. 

Kathryn snatched the Shakespeare from the rock and started across the grass to meet him, fully prepared to give him a piece of her mind about going off alone and not telling anyone. Stalking towards him, she watched his features come slowly into focus in the twilight. He had a pack slung over his shoulder and she could see that the lines of his face seemed softer somehow than when she had last seen him. He looked - better - more at peace. 

As they drew closer, she suddenly changed her mind and abruptly pulled a perfect 90 degree spin on her heel to head towards the ship instead. _He doesn’t want to see you_ , she scolded herself. _Especially not after he just spent the better part of six hours with his spirit guide probably repairing the damage being trapped with you has created. The last thing he needs is for you to yell at him like you’re his mother._

“Hey, you had us worried,” she heard Mike call to him from the beach as she started up the ramp. 

“Lost track of time,” he returned. 

“Did you get some answers?”

Kathryn paused at the top of the gangway, suddenly unable to move. She wasn’t sure why, but she absolutely needed to know the answer to Mike’s question. 

“It was enlightening,” was his cryptic response. He paused for so long that she almost started moving again. “I’m a lot more clear about things now,” he finally finished. 

Forcing herself into action again, she started down the hall towards the lift. 

_I’m a lot more clear about things now._

She heard the phrase ring through her brain over and over again. 

Clearer. 

About things. 

_What things_ , she thought over her dinner. 

_About me_ , she wondered as she brushed her teeth. 

_About being here_ , she reflected as she put on her pajamas. 

_About us?_ She got into bed and turned out the lights. 

_About where he’s going. About his plans._ The solution came to her so clearly, it was almost like the lights had come back on. Of course, that’s what he meant. He had come to a decision. 

She had tried her best to respect his wishes and stay away from him last week. It had turned out that avoiding him had been easy and she had been sure that she could manage to keep herself away for the foreseeable future. The one thing that she had granted herself was to ask him about his plans for the future each day. They were the only moments that she allowed herself with him.

Kathryn told herself that the question was about planning and nothing more. She needed to know what he wanted to do so that she could plan accordingly. She was hoping to be as efficient as possible when they were dropping off people that were returning home or headed elsewhere, both to conserve resources and to simply make themselves less of a target for the people that she was sure were hunting them. 

But, when she was lying in her room, alone in the dark and no longer able to lie to herself, she knew that it was more about preparing herself to lose him again. She had lost him twice already - once to Seven and once to her own failures as a friend and a captain - and both times had almost killed her. Maybe if she knew that this one was coming, it wouldn’t be so hard. 

She rolled over in bed again and again, trying to find the magic position that would be comfortable enough to allow her to sleep. Sighing, she tossed herself onto her back and stared up at the ceiling in the darkness. It was foolish, but those little moments with him were precious to her. They were bittersweet always, like a bad reflection of whispered conversations that they had indulged in so often when their friendship had been good, but her heart had clung to them like a drowning man to bits of driftwood. And she knew that if he had decided - if he knew where he wanted to go - she wouldn’t even have those little moments anymore. She wouldn’t have a reason to seek him out each day and she would have to pull herself completely apart from him. She realized suddenly that she wasn’t ready. She wasn’t prepared to lose him again. Perhaps, she realized in flash, she couldn’t be. 

Despite being exhausted, she didn’t sleep at all.

Kathryn dragged herself into the mess hall the next morning feeling wrung out. Coffee didn’t help and she was too depressed for breakfast. She was staring bleakly into her empty mug when she felt him sit down next to her. _Here it comes_ , she thought as she forced her eyes to meet his. _He’s going to tell you where he wants you to take him._

“Morning,” he said quietly. 

She tried to return his greeting, but all she could seem to manage was a vague hum of acknowledgement. 

“Sleep okay,” he asked. His question threw her and she stared at him in silence for a few seconds. 

“Yeah, it was okay,” she finally responded. “You?”

“Also okay,” he returned with a small smile. “You know, I think the bed in your room must be more comfortable than mine though. I haven’t slept as well as I did that night since I got my own room.”

She could feel her heart thundering in her chest and wondered if it was so loud that he could hear it. A part of her knew that was impossible, but she felt herself lean away from him slightly, just in case. 

“I think that was probably just the exhaustion,” she said, carefully controlling her tone so that it wouldn’t betray her. “Did you have a good vision quest yesterday? That’s where Mike said you went.” 

“I did,” he answered. "Thank you again for getting my medicine bundle to me."

"You're welcome," she said, allowing herself a small smile, which he returned. Silence fell between them as he ate his cereal. 

_Just stand up_ , her subconscious told her. _Just leave and then you won’t have to hear him say that he’s decided where he wants to go to be rid of you._

_That’s just putting off the inevitable_ , she argued back. _It’s better to just get it over with. Like snapping a dislocated shoulder back into place._

“Have you decided where you want to go,” she forced out bravely, bracing herself for the answer. 

He chewed contemplatively and then swallowed, staring at her in silence, almost like he was searching her face for something. 

“Not yet,” he said finally. His answer was so unexpected that she had to blink a few times just to be sure that she wasn’t asleep or hallucinating. 

“What,” she blurted out before she could stop herself. 

“What do you mean, ‘what,’” he asked in confusion. 

“I mean - I thought - You went on a vision quest yesterday and so I guess I just thought that maybe you had gotten an answer from your guide.” She was fiddling nervously with her empty coffee cup but stopped when she realized what she was doing. She forced her hands to the table top, willing them to be still. 

“Oh. No. She didn’t. Not yet. I think I’m close to a decision but I’m not there yet.” Chakotay reached over to cover one of her hands with his own. “I promise to let you know as soon as I’ve decided.” 

She stared down at their hands for a split second before slowly pulling hers out from underneath his. 

“Okay,” she returned quietly. She swallowed hard and looked back up at him. Forcing a steady calm into her tone that she didn’t feel, she continued. “Just let me know when you decide. I’ll take you wherever you want to go.” 

He nodded at her and she noticed that his face was tight again, like he was in pain. Kathryn just barely stopped herself from asking him if he was alright, choosing to simply leave him alone instead, sure that it was what he wanted. She stood and retreated to the kitchen to wash her coffee cup, giving herself a chance to re-center before she handed out the duty assignments for the day. As she dried the cup and placed it back on its shelf, she dug deep within herself and renewed her pact to give him his space. Since he hadn’t decided what he wanted to do yet, she would allow herself to continue to ask him once each day, but that was all. _Maybe I’ll push it to every other day_ , she thought. _Start the separation slowly and avoid abrupt withdrawal._ Satisfied with her plan, she left the kitchen and headed back into the mess hall to start everyone’s day. 

Despite her resolution, Kathryn’s week did not go according to plan. She tried to stay away from him. She had purposefully not assigned them to the same teams. Their teams weren’t even supposed to be in the same general area of the ship. But ever since his vision quest, it seemed that no matter where she was, he was there, too. 

Handing her a hyperspanner while he was “just passing through” engineering.

Offering to help her run a diagnostic on the helm control system because his team finished priming the hydraulic system early. 

Bumping into her on the _Flyer_ while she was replicating new warp plasma injectors because he was looking for the tricorder Mike left behind.

Sitting next to her at breakfast. And lunch. And dinner. 

Walking her back to her quarters each evening. 

By Thursday, she was sure every single moment of it was intentional. She and B’Elanna had finished with the modifications to the warp core and managed to blow every single plasma conduit in engineering when they tried to reinitialize the reaction. While it had proved to be a thorough test of the newly repaired emergency ventilation and fire suppression system, it was a major setback. They were going to have to replace the entire relay network. 

She and B’Elanna had split up in an attempt to divide and conquer, but it was slow going regardless. Kathryn had been crammed into an access tube working on a section of conduit that had been so badly damaged it was essentially fused to the bulkhead for an hour and a half, when she heard someone crawling in after her. 

“I’m just going to work through lunch, B’Elanna,” she said without looking up from the plasma cutter in her hands. “This section alone is going to set us back hours and I’m not that hungry. Go eat something and by the time you’re done, I’ll be ready to install the new components.”

“You have to eat, Kathryn.”

“Jesus Christ,” she yelled, dropping the plasma cutter in surprise. Chakotay grabbed it off the floor quickly before it could slice a hole clean through to the next deck and flicked it off.

“Fucking hell, Janeway! Be careful,” he said intensely. “You could have set yourself on fire.”

“Well, you should learn to announce yourself or something,” she fired back. “You’re the man who snuck up on me when I was using a plasma cutter at full blast!”

“You were talking to me! I don’t think you can call that sneaking up on you.” He flashed her a grin and she smacked his arm. 

“I thought you were B’Elanna. As was clearly illustrated when I said, ‘I’m going to work through lunch, _B’Elanna_.’” 

“I suppose,” he acquiesced. He glanced at her with an indecipherable look in his eyes and then reached for something in his back pocket. “Truce,” he asked, holding out his right hand. 

She looked up at him and could feel a confused smile spreading across her face. In his hand was a coffee-flavored ration bar. 

Suddenly she was back on _Voyager_ in the days after they had taken the ship back from the Hirogen. The ship had taken heavy damage from both the modifications made to turn the bulk of the ship into a holodeck and from the attempt to win it back. One of the systems most affected was the replicators and so they had survived on nothing but emergency rations for several days. When she had told him, after five days of going without, that she would kill someone for a cup of coffee, Chakotay had searched every ration pack on four decks to find her the next best thing - a coffee-flavored ration bar. He had presented it to her that evening on an inverted pot lid that he had stolen from Neelix’s kitchen in place of a plate and she’d laughed so hard she’d cried. 

“How did you - ”

“I ran into B’Elanna on my way to lunch. She told me about what happened and we both knew that you wouldn’t want to take a break until you had made some decent progress. So I told her that I would bring you a ration bar and make sure that you ate it.” 

“Oh.” She pulled her eyes from his with great effort, suddenly very aware of how close together they were in a very confined space, and focused back on the mess in front of her. 

He pushed his hand closer to her and shook it slightly. “Aren’t you going to take it?”

She picked the plasma cutter back up from where he had dropped it and started slicing again. “Just leave it,” she said without looking back at him. “I’ll get to it after I have this section clear.” She worked for a few seconds but could still feel him sitting beside her. With a sigh, she turned the cutter back off and turned to him. “I promise, hand on my heart or may God strike me dead, that I will eat the damn thing. But I am in the middle of this and would like to get it finished first. Acceptable compromise?” 

“That’s all I could ever ask for,” he returned with a sad sort of smile. 

She snatched the bar out of his hand and treated him to her death glare, as she resolutely ignored the feeling that the warmth of his palm had left on the tips of her fingers. He huffed a small laugh at her attempt to chastise him and then started the awkward process of turning around in the small space as she went back to her mess of a conduit. 

“Chakotay,” she said just as he was about to exit the tube. 

“Yeah,” she heard. 

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Kathryn.” 

Alone again, she flicked the cutter off and stared down at the ration bar in her hand. 

It was a long time before she returned to her task. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long and that it's more my usual length. Depression has been kicking my ass for the last 2 weeks and it's making it difficult to do much of anything. If it's any consolation, this chapter and the next were originally a single chapter but it was going to be like 10000 words, so now it's 2 chapters. But that means the next chapter is like halfway done, so there shouldn't be as much lag.  
> As always, thanks for reading. Love you all.  
> PS For anyone wondering, I have not forgotten about our people on Earth and will be getting back to them soonish.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here it is. The reason why they are angry running. Enjoy. :)  
> Lyrics are present in this chapter. I obviously do not own the rights to them.

_What if I grow darker than this? What if there is more night than day in this soul of mine? Will you love me in the shade as you promised to in the sunlight? Will you still know my name when all the lights go out? - Tyler Knott Gregson_

**June 20, 2379**

_He’s getting faster,_ she thought as she pushed her muscles even harder. Her pulse was thundering in her ears as she rounded the bend in the lake but she could still hear him following her, only a step behind. 

_Why does he keep coming with me,_ she thought for what felt like the hundredth time. _Why doesn’t he just leave me alone?_

Her irritation fueled her and she pushed even harder, feeling the increase in pace in her legs and her lungs but refusing to care. _Faster, Kathryn. You can be faster._

She heard him struggle to match her pace, his feet making more noise as they fell harder against the ground in his effort to keep up. _Just a little longer. He can’t keep up this pace. Longer. You can do it._

One foot in front of the other. Over and over and over. It’s what she had done for her whole life. Just keep putting one foot in front of the other. Objects in motion tend to stay in motion. Isn’t that what Newton postulated? She could be an object in motion. She could stay in motion. 

She didn’t need to stop. 

**Nineteen Days Earlier - June 1, 2379  
**

Despite having worked through lunch, repairing the damaged conduits proved to be an even longer project than Kathryn had expected. She had spent the rest of the day inside an access tube or a wall panel and had thus managed to avoid Chakotay except at dinner. As had become his habit, he sat silently next to her as they ate and walked her back to her room when she was ready to turn in for the night. They had parted in silence as each retreated to their rooms across the hall from one another. Like every night that week, she slept very little. 

Thus, when she finally hoisted herself out of the very last access tube on Friday evening, she was exhausted and more than a little irritable. 

“Who designed this thing,” she asked waspishly, rubbing her forehead and accidentally smearing grease into her eyebrow. 

“I don’t know, but if I ever find out, I’ll let you know and we can hunt him down and murder him,” B’Elanna threw back. She was splayed out under the panel that ran the warp reaction, repairing the rerouted circuits they had added to accommodate for their modifications. 

Kathryn dropped into a squat beside her. “Almost done?”

“Just. One. More. Linkage,” she mumbled as she finalized the last weld. “Well, that should do it. Ready to give it a whirl?”

“No time like the present.”

Kathryn stood up while B’Elanna reattached the underplating on the panel. It lit up as she did and Kathryn started inputting commands. 

“Preparing to initialize warp core reaction on my mark. Three. Two. One. Mark. Reaction initialized. Cross your fingers.”

“I’m warning you now, that if it doesn’t work this time, I’m burning this ship to the ground,” B’Elanna threatened. 

“Have a little faith, Torres. The _Fawkes_ can do it.” She heard B’Elanna mumble something about a death trap and someone having an irrational attachment to ships but chose to ignore her as she watched the data flying across the screen. 

“B’Elanna, look,” she breathed. They both stared at the numbers and then glanced up at the chamber simultaneously. 

“That’s what I’m talking about,” B’Elanna yelled, as the tube lit up blue, signaling that the reaction had stabilized. She grabbed Kathryn around the shoulders and pulled her in for a bone-crushing hug. Kathryn couldn’t help but laugh and return it. They had done it. _One step closer_ , she thought. To what exactly, she wasn’t sure, but it was progress and she decided that she would take the win. 

“I think we have each earned the right to shower, eat a large hot meal, and do absolutely nothing for the rest of the evening,” she said as she and B’Elanna turned to look back at the warp core again. 

“Agreed! I hear that Marco is cooking tonight, so it’s bound to be delicious.” The two started out of engineering and made it all the way to the lift before she remembered. 

“Wait, Marco’s cooking,” Kathryn asked. 

“Yeah. He said he was going to make his signature rabbit surprise. Although, just as a head’s up, the surprise is always that it’s not rabbit. Why?”

“I’m on KP when Marco cooks.” 

“Well, I’m sure that someone will switch with you! We deserve to do nothing!”

“It’s fine, B’Elanna,” she said quickly. “I don’t mind dishes, honestly.”

Dinner that night was celebratory. News had spread fast of their success in engineering and Harry had insisted on using a week’s worth of his replicator rations to make a cake. She had placed the Doctor in charge of the alcohol after their first night on board and he had broken out a reasonable amount of Klingon ale for everyone before locking access to that storage container again. When dinner was over, she was exhausted but running high on hope and adrenaline as she let herself into the kitchen to start the dishes. 

“Computer, list musical selections,” she instructed the panel near the door. A list of Klingon operas appeared and she scrolled through them with a sigh. Just as she was about to resign herself to working in total silence, she spotted it. At the very bottom of the list was something titled “2001: A Space Jukebox.” Curious, she selected the file and began scrolling through the list of hundreds of songs that were displayed. Recognizing none of them, she searched through the file to find the owner. It all clicked into place when she read the name. Tom Paris. Of course. They were likely all pieces from the 20th and 21st centuries. 

_At least they should all be in Standard_ , she thought to herself. Anything was better than Klingon opera. 

“Computer, play selection at random from file ‘2001: A Space Jukebox,’ volume 70 decibels,” she ordered. Instantly, vocalizations and a driving drum beat filled the kitchen. The music was strange and not all what she usually preferred to listen to but it was upbeat and happy sounding and she never could resist the dancer’s instinct to move when presented with something so insistent. She started swaying slightly in time with the music as she headed to the sink and began running water. 

“Let’s dance,” voices barked. “Put on your red shoes and dance the blues,” a man’s voice crooned. 

She started humming tunelessly with the music, hips swaying as she scoured the large pan that had contained Marco’s rabbitless rabbit surprise. It had in fact been entirely vegetarian for the benefit of Chakotay, as well as Alik and Ral, who had gone vegetarian for a month due to a regional Bajoran high holiday, and had been completely delicious. 

“If you say run, I’ll run with you,” the singer continued. “And if you say hide, we’ll hide, because my love for you would break my heart in two.”

Kathryn paused for a moment as she considered the singer’s words. It was strange to think that for the entirety of human existence, love and heartbreak had been something that humanity couldn’t help but examine through art. Stranger still that all these years later and a thousand light years away from Earth, those words could resonate within her.

“I didn’t know you were a David Bowie fan.” 

She turned around quickly to find Chakotay leaning against the doorway. After the last week, it shouldn’t have been a surprise that he would come find her in the kitchen while everyone else enjoyed themselves. But she couldn’t stop her heart from beating just a little faster and her breath from coming a little quicker, making her fingertips tingle. 

“Computer, decrease volume to 40 decibels. A what kind of fan,” she asked in confusion as she picked up a towel and started to dry off the dishes that she had cleaned already. 

“David Bowie,” he repeated. “The man singing this song.” 

“Oh,” she said as his explanation clicked into place. “I’m not - or wasn’t. It’s Tom’s,” she said gesturing up vaguely towards the sound. “I didn’t even think about bringing music with me when we left and so my options are Tom’s collection of 20th century rock and roll or some absolutely unbearable Klingon operas from the ship’s database.” 

"The lesser of two evils then,” he returned with a smirk. He pushed himself off the doorway and walked towards her, hands outstretched. “Here. I’ll dry and put away if you wash and rinse.” 

She stood perfectly still for a moment as she stared at him. She still wasn’t sure what he had been trying to do all week. Let her down easy? Apologize without words for being a jerk before he left so that he could feel that his conscience was clear? Whatever it was, it was making this so much harder. 

_You have to tell him. If he thinks he’s helping or doing the right thing he won’t stop. You need to tell him it’s too hard._

“Thank you for the offer, but I’m okay,” she forced out slowly. “I’m almost done anyway.” She turned away from him to survey the small mountain of dishes that she had left and cringed at the obvious lie. 

“Please, Kathryn,” he said in a voice so quiet she almost didn’t hear him over the music. She looked back at him and saw that look in his eyes again. Sadness and brokenness and something else that she just couldn’t put her finger on. “Please let me help,” he repeated. 

“Okay.” She handed him the towel without another word and went back to the sink. They worked in silence for several minutes, the only sound the splash of the water and the scratch of the brush against the dishes and the quieter pulse of the music. She stole a glance at him out of the corner of her eye and saw that he was lost in thought as he dried a mug. His brow was furrowed in concentration and his lips were drawn into a tight line. She couldn’t help but wonder what he was thinking about. 

“Can I ask you something,” she blurted out suddenly. He turned to look at her and she started to lose her nerve. “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to,” she added quickly. 

“Shoot.”

_Now or never, Kathryn._

“Were we ever friends?” 

It was the question that had plagued her since their fight in the detention center. It had been bad enough hearing him say that he wasn’t her friend in that moment. But the idea that their friendship had been in her mind alone - that she was only misconstruing a good working relationship and his natural kindness for a friendship that had quite literally changed her life - was unbearable. She was fairly certain that if he confirmed what he had said and asserted that he had never thought of her as his friend that she would cease to function. But she needed to know. Not knowing was driving her crazy. 

“What,” he replied, a look of confusion spreading across his face. 

“You said - In the detention center that day, you said that you weren’t sure we had ever been friends. I guess I was just wondering if you had figured it out.” She forced her eyes up from the sink and looked straight at him. “Did you ever think of me as your friend?” 

Hurt flew across his face and she watched his free hand grip the sink for support. “Yes, Kathryn. We were friends,” he said simply, his voice deep with emotion. 

She felt her eyes close as relief flooded her system. At least it hadn’t all been a lie she had told herself. 

She opened her eyes and stared into his face. “Can I ask one more question?” 

He nodded quickly and she steeled herself again. 

“When did we stop being friends? It’s just that I didn’t know. I thought -” She paused and swallowed hard, shifting her eyes back to the sink. “I just think that knowing will help me find some closure.”

She expected some anger this time. To admit that after thinking about their relationship for 6 months, she still hadn’t been able to pinpoint when he ceased to be her friend illustrated an almost inexcusable lack of self-awareness and consideration of others that she wouldn’t previously have thought possible of herself. But clearly, he saw their friendship as having ended at some point prior to their return and she couldn’t for the life of her figure out where. 

But when she forced herself to look back up at him, she found no anger in his face. Only the pain and sadness again and a third thing that she suddenly realized was determination.

“We should sit down,” he said quietly. 

“I really think I’d rather stand.”

“Please, Kathryn,” he said again, tossing the towel over her shoulder and lightly touching her elbow to turn her away from the sink. “Trust me. We need to sit down for this.”

“That bad, huh,” she asked, trying to bring some levity into a conversation that was rapidly becoming even more serious than she had intended. 

He dropped to the floor, pushing his back up against the stove and extending his legs in front of him. She followed his lead and sat perpendicular to him, with her back pressed against the metal front of the sink. She pulled her knees to her chest and rested her arms and head on them. 

They sat in silence listening as another song started quietly. Totally different from the first, a piano began to play softly and a woman’s voice joined in with a plaintive melody. 

“It’s coming on Christmas, they’re cutting down trees, putting up reindeer, singing songs of joy and peace. Oh, I wish I had a river, I could skate away on.” 

“I’m not sure where to start,” he said suddenly. “I told myself that I would talk to you about this and now, that we’re doing it, I have no idea what to say.” He looked across at her and she could see the conflict all over him. 

“Well,” she said quietly, “I suppose, you could start with answering the question and then move on to the rest.”

“Yes,” he nodded. He looked away from her and seemed to be ordering his thoughts, as though all he had needed was someone to tell him how to start. He swallowed and looked back in her direction. 

“You asked when we stopped being friends. The truth is that we were friends until that day, Kathryn. Until I decided we weren’t anymore. Until I decided to save us from ourselves.” He cringed at the last sentence and it was filled with bitterness and regret and the anger that she had been expecting earlier. 

“I don’t understand, Chakotay,” she said when he fell silent. “Why would you tell me we weren’t friends if you still thought we were? What were you trying to save us from?” She had never been more confused in her life. 

He pushed his head back against the oven door and closed his eyes, like he was steeling himself for something terrible. 

“What did the Admiral tell you about the future?” The question was so unexpected that she couldn’t even process it. 

“What?”

“What did the Admiral tell you about her future? It’s important, Kathryn. For what I need to tell you.” 

Her brain told her to shut this down. To stop this line of questioning. It was a violation of the Temporal Prime Directive for the Admiral to have told her anything at all. For her to tell to Chakotay would just make it worse. Perpetuate the crime, so to speak. But his eyes were pleading with her, begging her to trust him with this tiny thing and so, against her better judgment, she started to speak. 

“We got home. It took a long time, 23 years, but she did it. She didn’t get them home in time to save Tuvok and he went mad. People died.” She turned her head down so that her forehead was resting on her arms and stopped because she couldn’t get the rest out. It hurt too much, even knowing that he and Seven had broken up now. 

“Who died, Kathryn? Who did she tell you died?”

She snapped her head up to look at him more closely.

“What do you know,” she asked sharply. 

“Please.” 

She stared at him for a few more seconds before she sighed and dropped her head back onto her arms. 

“Seven died,” she answered into her knees. 

“Did she tell you how?”

“No,” she replied dully. “She only said that she died in the arms of her husband.”

“Me.”

“Yes,” she whispered. 

“She told me a slightly different story.”

Kathryn sat up so quickly she smacked her head on the sink. “What? When? She barely said two words to you the whole time she was with us,” she asked rapid fire as she rubbed the back of her head. 

“She left me a message. I didn’t see it until after we were through the transwarp conduit.”

The answer struck her like lightening. 

“Remember what I’ve said. About everything,” she whispered. “In her quarters, right before she got on her shuttle, she was recording something. I only heard the end. It was for you?” 

“Yes.”

“Tell me,” she ordered. 

“She told me what she had told you. She apparently told Seven something similar. She said that it was only part of the truth and that I needed to know the whole truth.”

“Why?” She had interrupted him but she couldn’t help herself. How could her future self think that there was something that Chakotay needed to know that she didn’t?

“So I could be strong.” His face twisted into a sneer. He looked so angry she almost didn’t recognize him. 

“Strong,” she repeated. 

“Strong enough to stop what happened in their timeline.” He pressed his hands down to the floor, eyes fixed on his feet in front of him. She could feel the tension radiating off of him in waves and wanted nothing more than to reach out and lay her hand on his chest. She tightly secured her hands in her elbows to resist the urge. 

“She told me that Seven and I got married. From the sounds of it, she made it seem like we were happy when she talked to you and Seven,” he glanced at her and she nodded in confirmation. 

“She told me a different version. She said that our marriage was - ” he paused, turning away from her again to search for the word to describe what she had told him. “Troubled,” he finished. “Turbulent. Unhappy.”

She felt her eyes go wide but managed to keep herself quiet. He was clearly having trouble getting it out and she didn’t want to interrupt him and have him lose his will to tell her at all. 

“She said I wanted children. Seven didn’t. We both apparently knew about the other’s preference before we got married but we did it anyway, each believing the other would change. When neither of us did, we fought. The Admiral said that we fought hard and often. About a lot of things.”

“Oh, Chakotay. I’m so sorry,” she breathed. She couldn’t stop herself. He looked so broken. He shook his head slightly, staring at her with his impossibly dark eyes before he turned away from her so that he could continue. He seemed to find it easier to tell the wall than to tell her directly and she watched his jaw tighten as he braced himself again. 

“She said that one day, Seven and I had a particularly bad fight and I left to walk it off. I ended up in your quarters - her quarters - looking for a fight.”

_A fight. A fight that he needed to be strong for. What did I say to him? Did I break him in her future? Could I do it still?_

“We fought. Hard. We both said some awful things apparently. Then she said that she pushed me too far.”

Kathryn felt the tears welling up in her eyes and blinked furiously to keep them at bay. She had broken him. Broken him the way the delta quadrant broke her. 

“I’m sorry,” she gasped again. “I ruined our friendship, didn’t I? Said something you couldn’t forgive?” 

“No,” she heard him whisper. “We broke each other, Kathryn. And Seven. You didn’t do any of it alone.”

She stared at him in confusion. “But if we fought - ”

“We had an affair.”

The sentence landed like a grenade. There was no air in the room and her skin was on fire and every part of her soul screamed that it was impossible. 

“No.” She couldn’t believe it. Wouldn’t believe it. “I don’t believe it. It’s a lie.” 

“She said that I collapsed and started crying. Told her that I had made a mistake. That she comforted me and that I kissed her. That she kissed me back. That we didn’t stop. That we did it over and over again.”

“Stop it.”

“She said when Seven died that I blamed her. That I said she had done it intentionally. Placed her in harms way so that she could have me all to herself.”

“I said stop.”

“She said I sobbed over Seven’s dead body and told her that I had never loved anyone more than her. You and I were never the same.”

“I don’t believe you,” she said as forcefully as she could manage. Tears streamed down her face and her whole body was shaking. He turned to look at her in surprise, almost like he had forgotten that she was there - like he had been so focused on getting it out that he hadn’t heard her until that moment. 

“Kathryn,” he said as he reached for her, but she jerked herself away and stood up. Swiping angrily at her face, she brushed the tears away, but more just kept coming. 

“It’s not that I don’t believe you, I guess. I don’t believe _her_. She lied, Chakotay. It has to be a lie.” She could hear the pleading in her voice, begging him to agree with her. “We wouldn’t do that. We couldn’t. I couldn’t. Not to Seven. Not to you.” 

“Not even if you loved me, Kathryn? Not even if I had made you officiate the wedding and then you watched me be miserable for 2 years? Not even if I kissed you first? If I told you I still loved you? That I had made a mistake? Not even then?” 

She shook her head silently, one hand clamped over her mouth as she paced the small room like a caged animal. 

_I wouldn’t do that. It wouldn’t matter how much I loved him. Not if he married someone else._

_You wouldn’t go back in time to change the future either, but I did,_ the Admiral’s voice answered. _How do you know what I would do? What you would do when you become me?_

“She said that she told me because you weren’t strong enough to stop it. That you loved me too much. That I would have to be the strong one. She said - she said we were toxic. That we destroyed everything around us and each other.”

The word toxic was like a slap in the face. She forced herself to take deep breaths and focus. 

_But it can’t happen. He didn’t marry Seven. He didn’t marry anyone._

“I still don’t understand. Even if we choose to believe that she was telling the truth, how does this have anything to do with us now? How does what she told you about her future translate to you ending our friendship?” 

“I’m getting there,” he said with a sigh. “I didn’t believe it either. Not at first. I told myself what you just did. That we couldn’t. Wouldn’t. Not unless we were in love and even then it was unlikely. And we weren’t in love. I had moved on. I wasn’t sure you had ever loved me at all. Thus it was a lie.” 

She could feel herself holding her breath. He was staring down at the deck-plating dejectedly, forcing the words out of himself like they were causing him physical pain. 

“But then we were home and I saw it. I watched you when I told you about Seven and when we got arrested and during all of our visits and I knew. You loved me then, didn’t you?”

He glanced up at her and she felt herself nod, too exhausted and hurting too much to lie to him.

“She said you never stopped. I guess that was true, at least. And suddenly, in November, I realized that I loved you too. That I hadn’t stopped either. That I hadn’t moved on.”

She stopped her frantic pacing and stared down at him. It had suddenly all clicked together in her mind. 

“You thought I did it on purpose,” she breathed. “That I sent Seven to Vulcan like she sent her to her death. That we were repeating their mistakes in our own way.” 

He nodded miserably. 

“You pushed me away so that we wouldn’t destroy each other.”

“Yes,” he said quietly. She felt herself drop to the floor, landing with a small thud across from him. 

_Toxic. Poisonous to everyone who touches us_ , she thought.

_Maybe not us,_ a small voice volunteered. _Maybe just me. Who I become._ She realized quite suddenly that he was still talking. 

“But I was wrong, Kathryn. I know that now. I know that what I did was stupid and that I hurt you and I’m so, so sorry. All I want is to be your friend again. And I know that I don’t deserve that, not by a long shot. All I’m asking is that you let me try, Kathryn. Please let me try to show you how sorry I am.” He had made his way across the floor and was sitting directly in front of her on his heels.

“I need to be alone now, please,” she whispered.

“Kathryn - ” She felt his hand land gently on her shoulder but she shrugged it off reflexively. She couldn’t survive him touching her right now.

“Please, Chakotay. Please just - I need some time.” 

“Okay.” She could hear the abject sorrow in his voice and it broke her heart even further. “I’m so sorry,” he repeated. She watched him stand out of the corner of her eye and heard the doors snick shut behind him. 

“I know,” she whispered to herself. “I’m sorry, too.” 

Eventually, she forced herself to her feet and back to the sink. She slowly finished the dishes as song after song played from Tom’s collection. The words rolled over her like waves, small phrases registering in her conscious mind in competition with his voice telling her the future. 

“I want to hold you when I’m not supposed to,” a female voice sang.

_We had an affair,_ his voice answered in her head. 

“You are the one who warmly lies close to me, whispers ‘hello, I missed you,’ quite tenderly. I fell in love, in love with you suddenly, now there’s no place else I could be but here in your arms,” cried male voices. 

_She said we were toxic_. 

“Yesterday, all my troubles seemed so far away. Now it looks as though they’re here to stay,” a plaintive and haunting voice intoned. 

_You loved me then, didn’t you?_

“You broke my heart and set me free, but you forgot your memory and it keeps right on hurting since you're gone,” a deep voice cried. 

_All I want is to be your friend again._

“Computer, stop music,” she begged. Blissful silence fell. 

She finished the last few mugs and then drained the sink before wandering back to her quarters in a daze. Once there, she went through the motions of getting ready for bed with unseeing eyes. 

Because when she brushed her teeth, it was the Admiral who stared back at her from the mirror. And as she put on her pajamas, it was the Admiral’s strange uniform that she saw. And when she finally fell into bed and closed her eyes, the Admiral was there too, waiting for her. 

_It’s only a matter of time, Kathryn._

“No,” she said aloud, needing to hear it. But her voice was small and the Admiral was so loud. 

_It’s inevitable. You becoming me. Better get used to it_. 

“My life is different from yours,” she insisted. “I don’t have to be you. My choices are different.” 

_But you aren’t different. You are still Kathryn Janeway. And you know what you’re capable of. You know what you’ll do to win. Look at what you’ve done already. You’re a fugitive, Kathryn. You really think you won’t become me? That you aren’t already well on your way?_

She tossed and turned for hours, embroiled in a war with her subconscious that she wasn’t sure she could win. If she was honest with herself, the Admiral terrified her. Seeing herself be so jaded, so ruthless, so hell-bent on a single selfish goal had made her hair stand on end. It wasn’t who she wanted to be. It was the exact opposite of what she had spent her entire adult life trying to be. 

All she wanted was to be a good Captain. 

A good leader. 

A leader who put her crew’s needs before her own. 

Who led by example. 

She knew that there were times when she had failed. In the Void. Chasing the Equinox. Hunting Omega. Potentially even the alliance with the Borg. But for the most part, she had felt that she had done her best to do exactly what she had striven to do. 

Admiral Janeway had shattered that illusion like a rock through a plate glass window. 

She had been brought face to face with a version of herself who believed the ends always justified the means. 

Who was willing to lie and cheat and steal and manipulate anyone just to win. 

Who wouldn’t place the safety of the entire alpha quadrant above a quick route home.

Who didn’t truly seem to believe that her crew was a family. 

A part of Kathryn knew that she should be grateful. The Admiral had gotten them all home. Saved Seven and Tuvok and countless others. Helped them deal a crippling blow to the Borg in the process. But she wasn’t. She wasn’t grateful. She was hurt and angry and full of self-loathing and an absolutely crippling anxiety about when those feelings would make her into that stranger. 

And then there was this. Chakotay’s revelation about the impossible future. 

She wanted to believe that the Admiral had lied. But the more she thought about it, the less a lie made sense. Why lie to him about this? If she had spoken to him before Kathryn had made the decision to destroy the hub, then maybe it could be argued that the Admiral was just manipulating him into getting her to change her mind. But she knew the plan already when she made the recording. And she had to know that Chakotay wouldn’t see it until after they were home. So why lie?

But if it wasn’t a lie, then it was the truth and that was unbearable to think about. How could she become that person? How could she go from believing that it would be wrong to be in a relationship with him at all for no other reason than that he was her subordinate and Starfleet would disapprove, to deciding that it was okay for her to sleep with him when she knew he was married? When he was married to someone that she loved like a daughter? 

The sun was just starting to peek through the clouds when she gave up on sleep. Realizing that she would need to use some old tactics from _Voyager_ if she wanted to continue to function, she got up and threw on some shorts and a tee-shirt. Pulling her hair into a high ponytail, she laced up her sneakers and headed outside. 

_I’ll start with one lap and see if I sleep tonight,_ she thought to herself as she took off around the lake. 

She set a blistering pace, hoping that the sound of her feet hitting the ground and her breath struggling out of her chest would drown out the noise in her mind. An hour later, she rounded the last bend nursing an impressive stitch in her side but refusing to slow down. Total exhaustion was the key to guaranteed dreamless sleep. The delta quadrant had taught her that. 

As Kathryn slowed to a walk to cool down, she noticed someone further up the beach walking toward her. _Chakotay._ She turned around and started walking back the way she had come but could hear him gaining on her. 

“Kathryn! Hey!”

She slowed to a stop but didn’t turn around. 

“Can I help you,” she asked quietly. 

“You had everyone worried. No one knew where you were.” He came around in front of her, trying to catch her eyes so she would understand the seriousness of their concern. “Come have some breakfast,” he finished more softly. 

“Well, I’m here. I couldn’t go back to sleep, so I got up and went for a run. And I’m not hungry.” 

“Kathryn - ” he started, reaching for her arm.

“Leave me alone, Chakotay,” she said intensely, ripping her forearm out of his hand. “It’s for our own good, remember?” She forced herself past him while he stood frozen in shock. 

“That’s not fair, and you know it,” he yelled at her back. “I said I was sorry, Kathryn.” 

She kept walking, refusing to be drawn back into the conversation. 

“God damn it, Kathryn, talk to me!” 

She stopped at the bottom of the gangway and almost turned around. 

_Toxic._ _He thought the Admiral meant your relationship but he was wrong._ You _are what’s toxic. It’s time to let him go, before you become her. Before you destroy him._

“No,” she said clearly over her shoulder. “We don’t have anything to talk about. Just - leave me alone.” She started back up the ramp and was almost inside when she heard it.

“Please, Kathryn,” she heard him beg. “Please don’t do this.” 

A single tear rolled down her cheek as she turned the corner, leaving him outside, each of them alone with their grief. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Songs:  
> "Let's Dance" sung by David Bowie  
> "River" sung by Joanie Mitchell  
> "Back to You" sung by Selena Gomez  
> "Here (In Your Arms)" sung by Hellogoodbye  
> "Yesterday" sung by the Beatles  
> "It Keeps Right on A-Hurtin'" sung by Elvis


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A special thanks to Emilie786 for the super fast (and first ever!) beta of this chapter. <3

_“I am just drowning my love,” she whispered. “I,” I choked out with a tongue dry from my own salt water, “will start being a life jacket and stop being the waves.” - Tyler Knott Gregson_

**June 20, 2379**

_She’s getting faster_ , he thought in disbelief, as he watched her stride widen and her legs pump themselves harder than before. It was like she wasn’t limited by the constraints of mere mortal flesh. Somehow, there was always some deeper reservoir, some untapped potential deep inside her that she could draw from when anyone else would have been spent. It was what made her a good captain but it was also what made her an extremely frustrating friend. Because she always believed that she could handle whatever she encountered. That she didn’t need help. That no matter what, she could keep coming back to that well and keep finding the resolve to do whatever it took to get through the situation.

But he had seen what happened when she came to the bottom of the well. When it ran dry and all she could bring up out of it was the dust of unkept promises and unfulfilled potential. When the well became a tomb. Her greatest strength; her greatest weakness.

He forced his burning muscles to push harder, breathing through the cramp in his side and every single muscle in his body that was crying out for mercy. He wasn’t going to lose her.

Not today. 

**Thirteen Days Earlier - June 7, 2379  
**

Chakotay heard the door to her quarters open. He counted to ten in his head and then followed. Her routine had been the same for the last five days. At 0600 she left her quarters and went for a run around the lake. She did exactly one 11 kilometer lap and then ran up the gangway and back to her quarters without breaking step. If she believed in a cool down period, she must have been walking laps in her quarters, because she didn’t emerge again until 0730. By then she was showered, dressed, and ready to scarf down a single piece of toast and the first of many cups of coffee while handing out duty assignments for the day. 

He wasn’t sure exactly what had possessed him to do it initially. She hadn’t spoken to him at all since their fight after her first run that Saturday, not even to ask him if he had decided where he wanted to go. In fact, he hadn’t seen her all day. She hadn’t shown up for any meals and while he had looked for her casually while on breaks from cleaning and reassembling the graviton particle emitters, he had been unable to locate her. 

When he had followed her onto the beach on Sunday, he had thought that he could catch her before she started her run. Make her talk to him outside, away from everyone else. But he hadn’t been fast enough and he wasn’t wearing running shoes and he was way more out of shape than he had thought, and so when she had taken off down the beach, she had lost him almost immediately. He could tell that she was surprised to find him still on the beach when she rounded the last corner, but she hadn’t faltered for a second, simply flying past him wordlessly onto the ship. All efforts to talk to her that day had failed. 

As he had stared up at the ceiling that night, he had come to a conclusion. She was clearly working through the same thing that he had been processing for the last year. If they had been toxic in the Admiral’s future, were they doomed to be toxic now? His spirit guide had said no and he had come to believe that she was right. She had told him that the way to avoid toxicity was to be honest. He’d cringed as he remembered their conversation and berated himself again for how he had chosen to deliver the Admiral’s message. He hadn’t planned on doing it that way or in that moment and so it had come out all wrong. 

He knew that if he could just get her to talk to him again, if she would just let him explain, that he could help her understand what he had figured out. He believed that they ended up toxic in the Admiral’s future because they had hurt each other and then never addressed it. They had just stopped being friends. He had tried to move on with Seven. She had shut herself off to everyone as a defense mechanism. And so, when the future him had wavered, they had both been too wounded and too broken to do the right thing. 

But that future wasn’t inevitable. Their first six months back on Earth had proved that if they remained friends who were honest with each other, they weren’t toxic. They hadn’t been toxic until he had decided to save them from themselves and sever all ties with her. He just needed to find a way to make her listen. A way to show her that he had failed her before, but he wouldn’t fail her again. That he would keep his promises - all of them. 

The idea had come to him like a bolt of lightening or a stroke of divine intervention. He never knew where exactly she was going to be during the day, but if her pattern held, he knew precisely where she would be first thing in the morning. He had gotten up immediately and snuck out to the Flyer, using up his replicator rations for a week to make some running shoes and some light weight clothes. If she wouldn’t let him talk, he could at least show her that he wasn’t going anywhere. That he would stay by her side like he had promised all those years ago.

And thus their pattern had begun. He started setting an alarm for 0545 and was up and dressed and at his door waiting for hers to open by 0555. He would give her a small head start and then he would head down to the beach. He would stick with her for as long as possible on her run and then double back when she lost him, meeting her at the gangway to run back to their rooms together. 

So far, she had said nothing about the arrangement. She had seemed surprised to see him dressed to run on that second morning after their fight, but had simply taken off down the beach without a word. He had tried to keep up but she was in much better shape and lost him quickly that day. He had managed to hang with her longer each day, but still didn’t make it much further than the bend in the lake before she was so far ahead of him that he would never catch her. 

His feet hit the beach seconds after hers and he watched her quickly pull first her right leg then her left leg up to her back to stretch her quads. With a quick roll of her neck and not a single glance back at him, she took off down the beach without warning. Taking a deep breath, he dug in his toes and pushed himself to catch up. He caught her after a hundred meters or so and snuck a glance at her face. Her eyes were focused straight ahead, her breathing the slow and even inhale and exhale of a seasoned runner. He couldn’t help but notice that the dark blue tank top that she wore reflected the blue in her eyes, although both looked more violet than normal because of the weird light on the planet. 

He turned away, focused on the route they were tracing which had become familiar over the last few days. The beach ran for about three kilometers before making a sharp turn into the woods that surrounded the lake on three sides. Another two kilometers would put them around a second sharp bend and down the far side of lake across from where they had landed the ship. The lake meandered on that side and resulted in a longer leg of about four kilometers. A final turn would bring them the two kilometers back down to the meadow. So far, he had only managed to make it about halfway after the first turn before she lost him and he had to double back. But he was feeling good about today. Today would be the day he made it to the second turn. He was sure of it. 

He vaulted a piece of driftwood on the beach and ended up landing slightly ahead of her. In a burst of foolishness and bravado, he kept pressing and lengthened his lead by several meters before he saw her catch up out of the corner of his eye. When she drew even with him, he glanced back down at her and found her examining him quizzically. She quickly flicked her eyes away and went back to watching the beach in front of them, but not before he saw her mouth set itself into a line of determination. He wondered to himself what it was about but didn’t have to wait very long to find out. Just as they got to the first corner, he saw her suddenly drop her head and pour on the speed. She was practically flying away from him, arms and legs pumping so quickly that she was almost blurry. He tried to match her, but she had too much of a lead and by the time his body forced him to give up the chase, she was so far away that he couldn’t even hear her anymore. 

He stood on the trail, doubled over with his hands on his knees, as he sucked in huge lungfuls of air. _I should have known better than to make it a competition_ , he thought regretfully. Holding his aching side, he finally had enough strength to run the rest of the way to the second turn before he turned himself around and headed back to the beach to wait for her. He couldn’t help but think that she looked a little smug as she rounded the last corner and they ran back up the gangway together. 

As he stood in the shower, hoping that the hot water would soothe his aching muscles, he decided that he needed to initiate some more contact. He wanted to respect her space and give her time to process, but he also wanted her to know without a doubt that he wasn’t going anywhere. He dried his hair forcefully with a towel and dressed quickly for the day. In his attempt to give her time to process, he had stopped sitting next to her at meals and had ensured that other people in his team interacted with her when she needed updates on their progress. The only thing he allowed himself for now was their run. He wasn’t sure exactly what he would do, but he needed to think of something. 

He spent the day rewiring the EPS conduits on the bridge and thinking about Kathryn. From the little that he had been able to observe her, she seemed to be processing more than just his revelation about their future selves. Occasionally, he caught her looking at him from across the mess or glancing up at him while they were running and the look on her face was full of pain and grief and what looked remarkably like fear. He wasn’t sure what she was afraid of, but whatever it was, it was keeping her up at night.

In the seven years that they had spent together in the delta quadrant, he had learned about all of her coping mechanisms. She always started with coffee. She had told him once that coffee had the ability to cure all manner of ills, both physical and psychological, and had joked that a cup of really good fresh coffee was the best therapist she’d ever had. But sometimes, coffee failed her. She would drink her weight in it and the solution to her problem would continue to elude her, the answer stubbornly refusing to come to rest in the bottom of the warm mug that usually provided them. And if coffee couldn’t help her reason her problems to ground, then exhaustion would at least make them disappear for a few hours.

Sometimes she took to rock climbing. Sometimes Velocity. She had even boxed with him a few times. But when it got really bad, she always turned to running. 

She ran in the holodeck. 

She ran in the corridors. 

She ran on distant planets. 

If she couldn’t run, she paced. Laps around the ready room and the bridge and her quarters. Circuits in the cargo bay and the turbolift and the shuttle hangers. 

Only once had he seen what came after even exercise failed to silence her demons. And listless withdrawal was the most terrifying thing he had ever watched Kathryn Janeway do. More terrifying than watching her fly onto a Borg cube to be assimilated. More unnerving than her relentless hunt for the _Equinox_. More gut-wrenching than holding her nearly lifeless body in his arms. It had been like staring at a stranger with Kathryn’s face and he had honestly feared that his best friend would never come back. 

He wouldn’t let her go back there. 

“Hey, are you coming?” Chakotay looked up from the panel he was working on to find Ken Dalby staring at him like he had three heads. 

“What,” he asked in confusion. 

“It’s time for dinner. The Doctor announced it over the intercom five minutes ago.”

“Oh. I, uh, just wanted to finish this panel,” he covered, as he pressed the bulkhead back into place and stood up. “Who’s cooking tonight?”

“Mike made meatballs.” Ken paused as Chakotay whipped his head up to look at him. 

“And latkes,” Chakotay asked, praying silently for a miracle.

“And latkes,” the other man returned with a grimace.

“Shit. He’s not going to give up on that recipe, is he? Have you warned the ‘Fleeters,” Chakotay asked as he wiped his hands on the front of his pants. 

“Marco told Anne to tell the Doctor and I think he’s spreading the word to Harry and Kathryn.” 

“We’re going to leave Tom to fend for himself?”

“I thought B’Elanna would warn him.”

“Hmm. Better pass it along just in case she thinks watching her husband vomit all night would be funny,” he insisted as they stepped into the lift. 

As they arrived in the mess, Chakotay immediately searched for Kathryn. He needed to impress on her how critical it was that she not eat a single bite of latke. Mike’s mother-in-law had developed a recipe for latkes using a potato-like substitute native to Ronara with great success. The small drawback was that the caltesh that were substituted for the potatoes were poisonous to humans unless treated in a very specific way before eating. His mother-in-law had offered Mike the recipe for the latkes when he had praised them, but refused to impart the secret of the treatment that made them edible. Mike had stubbornly been experimenting on the Maquis ever since. He had almost killed half the crew the first time. 

He spotted her across the mess and started to make his way over to her when he was intercepted by the Doctor. 

“I need a word, Commander.”

“It’s just Chakotay, Doctor. And can it wait? I need to tell Kathryn and Harry something.”

“Is it about the latkes? Anne has informed me that they are made with caltesh root. That is extremely poisonous to humans! I must insist that Mike not serve them,” the Doctor said waspishly.

Chakotay grabbed the hologram by the arm and steered him towards the windows. 

“No, no, no, no, don’t do that.”

“And may I ask why not?”

“Because it will break Mike’s heart and he’ll sulk about it for 3 weeks,” Chakotay whispered intensely. 

“If no one eats them, won’t that have the same effect?”

“People are going to eat them, Doctor. Just not people who haven’t built up a tolerance to the toxin.”

“I don’t understand,” the Doctor returned. 

“All of the former Maquis have eaten these at least a hundred times. Even after not having them for eight years, I’m sure we can each hold down half a latke with little distress. But Tom, Kathryn, and Harry will be miserable if they eat a single bite, so I really need to make sure that they understand that before Mike - ” Chakotay trailed off as he saw the Doctor’s eyes widen. He turned around just in time to watch Mike slide a latke onto Kathryn’s plate and her extend her fork towards the delectable looking fried disc. 

“Get to Harry. Now,” he ordered the Doctor, as he walked as quickly as he could towards where Kathryn was sitting. He arrived by her side just as she was about to take her first bite. 

“Kathryn, I need to talk to you,” he said quickly, taking hold of her right arm to prevent her from getting the fork to her mouth. 

“It can wait until after dinner,” she replying coldly without looking at him. 

“No, it really can’t.”

She dropped her fork onto her plate with a clatter and he felt a small frisson of relief run through him, until he realized that she was staring up at him angrily. He forced himself to hold her stare until she shook her arm free and slammed her palms down onto the table, pushing her chair back forcefully. 

“Fine,” she spat at him and stalked out of the mess and into the hall. He followed her out slowly, turning back to see that the Doctor was whispering to Harry, who from the looks of it, had already started to turn a little green from the two or three bites of latke that he had managed before anyone had a chance to warn him. Ken was with Tom and B’Elanna and it appeared that she had warned Tom ahead of time, since her plate contained two latkes and his contained only meatballs. He emerged into the hallway to find Kathryn so angry that she reminded him of a viper ready to strike. 

“What,” she demanded in a dangerously low voice, “could possibly be so important to talk about that you feel the need to pull me out of dinner in front of everyone?”

“You can’t eat the latkes,” he returned calmly. 

“I can’t - what?”

“You can’t eat the latkes. You, Harry, Tom, they’ll make you guys sick.” 

She stared at him in shocked silence. Clearly, she had expected any number of things to come out of his mouth but a discussion about dinner was not one that had even brushed the realm of possibility in her mind.

“Sick,” she finally managed. 

“Yes. Mike uses caltesh root instead of potatoes. It’s a recipe that Eliana’s mother invented when they relocated to Ronara when she was a child. Potatoes won’t grow in the soil there.” 

“But caltesh is poisonous.”

“She figured out a way to treat it that removes the toxin. I’ve had them once. They’re delicious.”

“Well, if the toxin is gone then how come - ”

“The toxin isn’t gone,” he interrupted. She stared up at him quizzically. 

“Why not?”

“Because Eliana’s mother hates Mike.”

“Mike’s mother-in-law hates him?”

“Yes.”

“And that’s why the latkes still have caltesh toxin in them?”

“That’s correct.”

“And, you’ve lost me.” Kathryn turned away from him and rubbed her forehead above her left eyebrow. 

“Mike loves her latkes. He told her often and one day she finally agreed to give him the recipe. Mike was overjoyed. He thought maybe he was finally making progress. Then he realized what she left out. All he has is the actual recipe. She never told him how she treats the caltesh to remove the toxin. He’s been experimenting ever since.”

“People could die, Chakotay! We have to warn them,” she exclaimed as she started back into the mess. 

“It’s fine, Kathryn,” he said calmly, putting his hand on her shoulder to turn her back around. “The Doctor is with Harry and B’Elanna got to Tom before he had any.”

“What about everyone else?” 

“We’ll be fine. He almost killed us all the first time, but we’ve built up a tolerance to the toxin over time. The rest of us will have a few bites and then in twenty minutes our tongues will go a little numb and we’ll tell him to go back to the drawing board.”

“Oh. Where did he even get caltesh?”

“Replicator,” Chakotay volunteered uncertainly. “Honestly, I don’t know. Maybe he had the Doctor pick them up on the last supply run? I know that caltesh doesn’t bother Klingons the same way it does almost everyone else. B’Elanna is the only reason we lived the first time.”

“Hmm,” she replied noncommittally. 

They stared at each other for several seconds and Chakotay suddenly realized that this was their longest conversation in six days. As he looked down at her beautiful eyes, he couldn’t help but kick himself again for what he had done to them. He had to make this right. 

“Kathryn - ”

“Was that all,” she interrupted before he could continue, dropping her gaze to the floor. 

“Yes,” he whispered. This wasn’t the time or the place to do what they needed to do. 

“Well, then. We should get back in there. And tell Mike he needs to warn the uninitiated next time.”

“I will.” She glanced back up at him and then nodded slightly before turning around and heading back inside. 

He stood in the hall for a few seconds, looking at the door she had disappeared through. His whole soul ached. It was like his mind managed to suppress the grief that came from being estranged from her until he was in front of her and then the dam broke and it all came rushing to the foreground. He wondered if she felt the same way and if this was what she had been feeling for the last six months. 

“You have to fix this,” he whispered to himself and then walked back into the mess hall. 

When he arrived, Harry and the Doctor had disappeared but everyone else seemed to be normal. He crossed the room to make himself a plate of meatballs and added a single latke. 

“I think I’ve finally got it right this time, boss,” Mike said, slapping him on the shoulder. “I’ve got a good feeling about this batch.”

“Mike, you’ve got to stop just handing these things to people with no warning. You could have killed the ‘Fleeters.” 

“No one died the first time,” Mike returned childishly. 

“Mike.”

“Okay, okay, I promise. I will start warning people the latkes are potentially poisonous until I figure this thing out.” 

“That’s all I’m asking for,” Chakotay returned with a small smile. He turned back around to survey the mess hall when he noticed that Kathryn was sitting alone. Harry had been next to her before their conversation but now no one was sitting anywhere near her. She was silently picking the latke apart strand by strand with her fork and occasionally taking small bites of meatball. She looked absolutely miserable. 

_Baby steps_ , he thought to himself as he walked towards her. 

“Mind if I sit,” he asked quietly. 

She glanced up at him and in the split second before she managed to get herself under control he saw unbridled pain on her face. It hurt so much he couldn’t bear it and he felt his eyes close for a moment involuntarily. 

“Sure,” she answered quietly and he dropped himself into the seat next to her. He ate quickly, sneaking glances at her often but she didn’t look at him even once. She continued to focus on the plate in front of her until she had each strand of caltesh lined up in a perfect row. He couldn’t help but notice that she couldn’t have eaten more than half a meatball. 

Twenty minutes later, the tingling from the latke had started and he decided that after the day that he’d had, all he wanted was to go take a second hot shower and fall into a dreamless sleep for the next eight hours. 

“I’m going to turn in,” he said to her quietly, but she didn’t even look up from her plate. “Good night, Kathryn. I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

When he fell into bed, sleep eluded him. He stared up at the ceiling and kept thinking about Kathryn and what this was doing to her. She had started looking very thin and there were dark circles under her eyes constantly. He tossed in his bed for a while longer until he heard the door to her quarters open and then shut across the hall. She had finally turned in. He needed to do something. He needed to fix this, even if all he could do was make sure that she didn’t starve herself to death.

Chakotay swung himself out of bed and tossed on a pair of pants and a sweater and headed out to the _Flyer_. Ten minutes later, he placed a tray with a bowl of mushroom soup and a small hunk of bread on the ground and rang the bell to Kathryn’s quarters. He heard her door open just as his shut behind him. He pressed his ear to the door and listened to the silent hallway for several seconds before he heard her door slide shut again. Switching his door to manual, he slid it open a few centimeters and peeked outside. He felt himself smile like an idiot and then pulled his door back closed. 

The tray he had left outside her door was gone. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long :( Our favorite morons were being particularly uncooperative. But we've had a long talk and I made them sit alone in their rooms for a while and now I think we are all on the same page. Thanks for continuing to read and put up with my nonsense. I love you all.


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some Housekeeping: In the interest of making the jumps through time easier to follow, all previous chapters and this one now have dates attached to the them. The date given is the starting date for the section that follows it. Some sections only span the one day, but others start in that day and continue on for a time. It should be clear from the text what is happening. A few minor edits were also made in previous chapters, but nothing huge.  
> Enjoy :)

_What if time stole my tenderness, what if I am worn through and grace was wasted in the waiting? Can I climb out of what you have buried me under? - Tyler Knott Gregson_

**June 20, 2379**

  
He was still on her heels as they rounded the last turn. It was impossible, but he was. Kathryn tried to find the strength to speed up again, but she was running on empty. There was nothing more to give. She was exhausted and she couldn’t outrun this anymore. It was time to face him. Time to break him for the last time. 

_Don’t do this_ , a tiny voice in her head pled. 

_I have to do this,_ she answered back angrily. _Before I’m too far gone. Before it’s too late. I can still save him._

**Two Days Earlier - June 18, 2379**

  
It had started with mushroom soup. 

The next day it was caramel brownies and the day after that coffee ice cream. Vegetable biryani, creamy pesto pasta and garlic bread, ratatouille, peanut butter toast, and tera nut soufflé all followed. Her favorite foods. Things that she dreamed about during replicator droughts and that she had sworn she would eat in vast quantities when they finally made it back to Earth and she could have someone actually make them for her from real, non-replicated ingredients. As she had nibbled on one of the caramel brownies, she had realized that she hadn’t actually eaten most of those things at all in the year she had been back. _It isn’t the same when you aren’t sharing them with him_ , her brain volunteered. As punishment for that train of thought, she hadn’t allowed herself to finish the brownies, sneaking them back out to the _Flyer_ the next day to recycle them before she could change her mind. 

She wasn’t sure why, but she had eaten all the other things that he had left for her. She tried to tell herself that it was because they were her favorite things and they always showed up when she was tired and defenseless. But in her heart of hearts, she knew that she ate them because he had given them to her and she knew it would hurt him if she didn’t. 

After eight days, the gifts started. A pale pink peace rose on the tray with the persimmon pudding. A remarkable sky blue flower that looked like a cross between a carnation and a violet accompanied pork tenderloin and corn bread. A gorgeous carving of an Irish setter sat alongside the plate of banana pancakes. 

It was getting out of hand. 

She had only been in her room for a few minutes when she heard the door buzz. Kathryn knew she shouldn’t open it. That she should just leave whatever it was outside. She needed to start making it clear to him that they couldn’t allow themselves to reconcile. She needed to make him understand that it was in his best interest to leave her alone. 

But just like every night since this had started, she felt herself pushing the open button on her door anyway. She stared down at the floor in surprise. Unlike all of the previous nights, there wasn’t a tray of food outside her door. Instead, there was a box. A beautiful box carved out of a dark auburn wood. Her name was engraved on the lid. Unable to stop herself, she picked it up and brought it inside, setting it gently on the bed before she sat down beside it. 

Kathryn ran her hands along it, allowing her fingers to admire the skill in the engravings of flowers and animals that covered the sides. Along with her name, the lid had been decorated to resemble the sky, stars scattered across it to create constellations both familiar and imagined. A tiny _Voyager_ could be seen in the bottom right corner, nacelles engaged as though at warp. _When did he have time to do this_ , she thought to herself in shock. It never ceased to amaze her how talented he was. When she finally had the presence of mind to open it, she felt her heart stop. 

Nestled within the box was her field notebook. The one she had used while she was on New Earth. The one she had attempted to recycle after the plasma storm had destroyed all her research, but had given to him instead when he told her he could use it for sketching. With shaking hands, she pulled it out of the box and opened it. 

Kathryn flipped through the pages slowly, skimming over the annotations of the locations of her bug traps and her collection times. The number of specimens collected and descriptions of them followed. She had attempted to establish a naming convention for the various insects she had discovered and a sad smile crossed her face as she skimmed the list she had begun and never finished. 

Sighing softly, she couldn’t stop herself from remembering how driven she’d been to find a cure. How resolutely she had avoided the only other person on the planet, choosing instead to focus on the solution to their problem. Meanwhile, he had seemed to simply accept their fate. 

It had irritated her to no end in the beginning. It felt like he had given in. Like he didn’t believe that she could fix their problem. It had taken him telling his thinly veiled “legend" for her to realize that it wasn’t that he didn’t believe that she could fix it. It was that he was content either way. If she cured them and they could go back to _Voyager_ , then he would be happy. If she failed and they were trapped there forever, he would be happy. He was happy - at peace - because he was with her, no matter where they lived, no matter what their circumstances.

As she turned past the last page of her research, she froze. On the very next page - the first page that had belonged to him - was a perfect charcoal sketch of her. Her face stared back at her from the palm sized page, eyes focused in concentration, a small line on her forehead mirroring the set of her lips. She traced her finger slowly over the soft pieces of hair that he had drawn to frame her face, as her other hand clamped itself over her mouth. As if of their own volition, her fingers flipped the page to reveal another sketch, then another, and then another. 

Her reading by the light of a fire he’d built by the river. 

Her walking away, dress swaying and face turned back towards him, calling to him. 

In profile, staring up at a star-speckled sky. 

Sitting in a tree, laughing at him. 

The last sketch was unfinished, like he’d only had time to get the bare bones down before being interrupted. She was lying on the ground facing away from him, face just barely visible in profile, tending to her tomato plants. Her hair was in a braid, twisted over her shoulder, and her feet were bare, the outlines of her toes just apparent where he had started them.

A tear splashed onto the last drawing, causing one of the tomatoes to bleed. Kathryn swiped quickly at her face as she tried to draw in deep calming breaths. She hadn’t even realized that she had been crying until the evidence was sliding across the page. _He was so incredibly in love with you_ , the tiniest of voices whispered. 

She pulled her right sleeve down over her hand and gently blotted at the spot to dry it. Once she was sure that the page was safe from damage, she carefully closed the notebook and returned it to the box. 

She knew what she had to do. This was the last straw. She had foolishly allowed this to continue, had indulged it by not just ignoring his presents from the get go, and now it was out of control. She forced herself off the end of the bed and walked to the nightstand, collecting the Irish setter figure and the two flowers he had given her. She gently placed them all atop the notebook inside the box. As she closed the lid, she allowed a single sob to escape, absorbing the finality of the action. 

_Enough_ , the Admiral’s voice rang out in her head. _Let him go. Save him_.

Kathryn ran her hands across the box for one last time, desperately trying to memorize it with her fingers. The delicate roses and intricate vines. Lilys of the valley and dew drops. A single monkey in a small boat. A dog chasing a squirrel near a field of corn. A whole side dominated by a sail boat on a vast lake. She knew what it meant; what he wanted her to understand. The box was their life together. Everything they had shared in the past. Everything he hoped for the future. 

“It’s for the best,” she whispered to herself quietly as she opened her door again and gently placed the box back on the ground outside her quarters where she’d found it. It had become her own message; she knew he would understand. 

She closed the door behind her and mechanically got ready for bed. She brushed out her hair and cleaned her face. Brushed her teeth and put on her pajamas. Turned out the light and slid into bed. She expected to cry. To sob like she hadn’t since the first day they were here when the birthday cake had sent her over the edge. 

Instead, there was only numbness. A dull, suffocating nothing worse than what she had experienced before Tom had come to her with this crazy plan in the first place. _Maybe this is how it happens_ , she thought to herself. _Maybe this is how you become her._

She didn’t sleep at all. 

When her alarm sounded, Kathryn rolled out of bed and wearily pulled on her running shorts and a tank top. Lacing up her sneakers, she stretched quickly and headed out into the hall. She couldn’t stop herself from glancing down at the box by her door as she passed by and almost gave in. 

Almost grabbed it and hugged it tightly to her chest, refusing to let it go. 

Almost. 

Instead, she tore her eyes from it and continued down the hall to the exit. She was nearly there when she heard his door open. Refusing to look back, she heard him take a few steps out of his quarters and then pause. 

_He sees it. He knows you left it behind._

Unable to bear his heartbreak on top of her own, she raced out of the ship and onto the beach. For the first time in over two weeks, he didn’t join her on her run. 

She didn’t even make it halfway around the lake. 

As she stood under the hot water of the shower, Kathryn wondered what he would be like at breakfast. Cold and distant again? Broken? Angry? She knew just how hurt he must be by what she had done and felt self-loathing start to overwhelm her. She rested her forehead against the wall of the shower, allowing the spray to pound into her shoulders. 

“You did it for him, Kathryn,” she recited for the twentieth time since she had placed the box back outside her quarters. “No matter how hurt he is now, it’s nothing compared to what you’ll do to him when you’re her. You’ll destroy him.”

When she entered the mess hall fifteen minutes later, he was nowhere to be found. Grabbing herself a cup of coffee and a piece of toast, she sat down next to B’Elanna and Miral and watched the door. 0730 came and went and there was still no sign of him. Just as she was about to cave and send someone to look for him, Mike walked into the mess hall.   
Kathryn watched him look quickly through the room, eyes finally settling on her. He crossed the room in determination and dropped into the seat across from her. 

“He’s not coming, Kathryn,” he clipped shortly. 

“Good morning to you, too.”

“I’m serious.” He was staring at her with what she realized was very barely controlled fury. 

“I know,” she whispered. She dropped her eyes to the table and gathered herself, drawing on the numbness that had been threatening to encompass her since last night. Pulling it around her like a security blanket, it was like she could feel the very last of who she had been slipping through her fingers. She flicked her eyes back up to him, holding his angry gaze. “It’s for the best. He’ll understand in time,” she announced in a louder voice, one that sounded distinctly more like the Admiral’s than her own.

“You know, Kathryn, I’ve tried to be understanding about this. I really have. Because I don’t know what happened between you two and I don’t feel like it’s my business to know if neither of you want to tell me. But this - whatever this is - that you’re doing now? It’s fucking cruel. I don’t care how badly he hurt you. What you’re doing to him is inexcusable.”

“Are you finished?” She watched her words hit him like she’d just slapped him across the face.

“Am I fin- You know what? Yeah, I am. Just give me my assignment so that I can get the fuck out of here.” 

She handed him a PADD wordlessly and watched him push his chair back and stalk out of the mess hall. As she glanced around, she could see that everyone was watching. 

“Anyone else,” she asked sarcastically to the room. Silent stares answered her. Even Miral was uncharacteristically mute. “Well, then. I have assignments. Let’s get to work.” 

The day was fraught with tension. She kept catching Colm and Olandra glancing at her out of the corners of their eyes as they welded the ablative generators in place on the hull. When she entered the mess for lunch and as she did her progress rounds throughout the day, all conversation came to an abrupt halt. By the time dinner rolled around, she was exhausted and irritated and so she decided to forego it entirely and went straight to her quarters. 

As she walked down the hall, she glanced across at Chakotay’s door. She had found an excuse to come down this corridor several times during the day and it had never been open. Seeing that it was still shut, she sighed quietly and keyed in her entrance code. Just as she collapsed onto her bed, the door buzzed. 

Kathryn sat up on her elbows and stared at the door. Everyone else was supposed to be at dinner. Which meant that more than likely, Chakotay was the one outside her door. She waited a full five minutes, but the request for entry was not repeated. Pushing herself up, she crossed to the door and pressed her ear up against it to listen. Silence answered back. Deciding to risk it, she switched her door to manual and cracked it open a centimeter at a time. 

Sitting on the floor was a carving of a lizard perched on a log. 

She stared down at the offering in shock. It was her lizard. The one that she had seen during her only vision quest more than 7 years ago. It didn’t make any sense. _How could he possibly know what I saw_ , she thought in disbelief. They had never discussed it and she was sure that he hadn’t somehow shared in her vision. How could he know? 

_It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t change anything._ She rested her head against the half-open door as she tried to decide what to do with it. She could just leave it where it was, but maybe that didn’t send a strong enough message. 

Picking it up, she crossed the hall in four quick strides and placed it beside his door. Her hand hovered over the buzzer but she withdrew it at the last minute. He would figure it out in the morning. 

She returned to her room and slid the door shut behind her. _It’s for the best_ , she reminded herself again. 

Kathryn fell into bed, but for the second night in a row, sleep eluded her. She kept thinking about the lizard, trying to figure out how he knew exactly what she had seen and what the carving was supposed to mean. Was it a goodbye? Or was it supposed to be some kind of reminder? At around 0300, she finally fell into an uneasy sleep, drifting in and out of dreams filled with the Admiral and her tiny spirit guide. 

The next morning, she contemplated not running at all. She had only slept 2 hours in the last 48 and she was physically and emotionally exhausted. Only the sure knowledge that she wasn’t going to be able to go back to sleep forced her out of bed. As she left her quarters, she glanced toward his door and noticed that the lizard was gone. _Message received_ , she thought to herself sadly. She could feel the numbness beginning to descend upon her again as she stepped off the gangway but stopped dead in her tracks when she saw the beach. 

Chakotay was on the beach, dressed to run. 

Unsure what to even make of that development, she took off running and flew past him, determined to lose him before the first turn. 

But she didn’t. 

Not at the first turn. 

Not at the second. 

Not at the half way point. 

He was still there, just a step or two behind. 

_Impossible_ , she thought to herself. _He’s never been able to come this far with me._

And yet, there he was. 

As she rounded the last turn, she knew what had to be done. _He’s not giving up. You have to make him give up._

She came to the end of the near side and instead of dashing across the meadow to run up the gangway like usual, turned left onto the beach again. She slowed her pace to a moderate jog, easing the burden on her screaming muscles, as she tried to figure out what to say. She heard him follow and come to rest behind her. 

“Kathryn,” she heard him gasp between deep breaths. 

She slowed to a stop, desperately trying to gather all of her emotions together so that she could shove them into a dark corner for the next ten minutes. She could grieve about this later. For now, she had a job to do. Digging deep within her, she located the numbness of yesterday and tried to force it around her psyche like a shield. Only then could she turn to face him. 

She found him doubled over a few meters behind her, both hands resting on his knees as he dragged in one agonizing breath after another. He had pushed hard today and it showed. He pulled his head up to look at her, searching her face for something. 

“What are we doing, Kathryn,” he asked. “You can’t possibly be trying to do another lap.” 

“No.”

“Then what - ”

“What are _you_ doing, Chakotay?” He stared up at her in confusion and she pressed on before he could say anything else. “Why are you doing this? Running with me. Having dinner with me. Leaving me your little gifts.” She watched him wince at how cavalierly she referred to the pieces of his soul that he had been leaving her. Through the numbness, she could feel her heart break even further as she hurt him, but she was committed now and so she just kept going. “What do you think it’s going to accomplish?” 

“I just want to be your friend again,” he said quietly. “I know that I messed up, Kathryn. And I know that the way that I explained why I did what I did caused you a lot of pain on top of what I had already inflicted. I was - apologizing, I guess. Trying to show you that I wasn’t going anywhere. That I was going to keep the promise I made you years ago.”

“What promise?” The question was out of her mouth before she could stop it and she could feel it hanging in the air between them. 

“That you wouldn’t be alone. That I would always be there to help make your burdens lighter.” 

His words hit her like a punch to the abdomen and she felt herself take a step back, needing more distance between them if she was going to make this work. 

“Maybe I don’t want to be your friend,” she bit back at him, desperately trying to regain control of the conversation. 

He pushed himself up and stalked towards her until only centimeters separated them. 

“There’s no ‘maybe’ about it, Kathryn. Either you do or you don’t. And if you truly don’t want to be my friend again, then I’ll back off, but I don’t believe for a second that’s really what you want. So I’ll ask you again: what are you doing? What is going on with you?”

“Nothing,” she answered flatly. She turned away to look out at the lake, unable to face him for what would come next. “I just think our relationship has run its course.”

“God damn it, Janeway, do you think I’m blind? Or stupid? I’ve known you for too long to be fooled by this act! Why the hell are you doing this?” He grabbed her shoulders in an effort to make her look at him and that tipped her over the edge, anger and irritation bubbling up through the surface of the dispassionate calm that she had wrapped herself in.

“I’m doing it for you, you jackass,” she erupted. “I’m doing it to save you.” 

They stared at each other for what felt like an eternity, chests still heaving from exertion and anger.

“Save me? What exactly do you think you’re saving me from,” he finally asked. His tone was soft, gentle, the way you talk to a cornered animal. 

“I’m not talking about this.” His hands were still on her shoulders and she shrugged them off to free herself. He let her go but grabbed her hand as she tried to walk away from him. 

“Please, Kathryn. Please talk to me. I don’t understand.”

“Let me go, Chakotay.”

“What do I need to be saved from?”

She turned back towards him, fully prepared to deal the death blow for their relationship. But as her eyes met his, she saw absolute torment in them - torment that was a knife that cut straight through the numbness surrounding her soul. She felt it fall away from her and her own pain hit her like wave, threatening to drown her. Suddenly, it wasn’t the insult, the dismissal that she had prepared in her mind that left her lips, but the answer to his question instead.

“Me,” she heard herself whisper. “The person I become. That I’m becoming.” 

His face dissolved into anguish and she felt him tug on her hand as he pulled her into his chest. Her head landed against him with a gentle thud as he drew her completely to him, tears dripping off his face and into her hair. She felt his arms wrap around her, one coming to rest on her waist and the other sliding up her back to stroke her hair. A single strangled sob left his throat and suddenly she couldn’t hold back any longer. 

She wrapped her arms tightly around him, forcing them even closer together. Her hands fisted themselves in his shirt, anchoring him to her, unable to push him away in the face of such all-encompassing grief. The tears that had refused to come two nights ago came spilling silently down her face, soaking the front of his shirt. 

She wasn’t sure how long they stood there, holding each other like it was the last time. 

“I’m so sorry, Kathryn,” she heard him finally force out above her. “I will never, ever, stop being sorry for this, not for as long as I live.”   
  
“It’s not your fault,” she whispered into his chest. 

“Hey,” he said, tapping the back of her head lightly. “Kathryn, look at me.”

She tilted her head back and found him staring down at her in confusion.

“What do you mean it’s not my fault? Of course, it’s my fault.”

“You don’t get to take the blame for my character flaws, Chakotay.” She let go of his shirt and pushed herself gently away from him. She walked past him a few steps and dropped onto the beach. Pulling her knees to her chest, she stared out at the lake blankly as she heard him drop down beside her. 

“I don’t understand. What character flaw? Isn’t this about what the Admiral told me? What exactly do you think you’re going to do to me?”

“You didn’t interact with the Admiral much when she was with us, did you?”

“No,” he answered uncertainly. “She spoke to me a few times and then she left me the message obviously, but no, we didn’t spend much time together.” 

“Well, I spent a lot of time with her.” 

Kathryn could feel him staring at her, but he didn’t say anything, obviously trying to give her the space she needed to sort out her feelings. It was one of the things that she had always appreciated about him. He never felt the need to rush her. He was always willing to let her bring things to him at her own pace. 

“She was - condescending. Arrogant. Selfish. Completely willing to do whatever it took to fulfill her own agenda. Even if it meant leaving the doorway to the Alpha Quadrant open. Or violating the Temporal Prime Directive. Or lying to me and Seven and god only knows who else. She was the embodiment of everything that I hate about myself. Everything that I work so hard to keep at bay or to funnel into positive outcomes just allowed to run rampant.”

She stared out across the lake as she reflected on her future self. The version of her that had become the voice in her head. More tears ran down her face and she felt his hand slide across her cheek to swipe them away. Turning to face him, she found her own suffering mirrored in his eyes.

“She _haunts_ me, Chakotay,” she forced out as the tears started to flow more quickly. “I keep - looking over my shoulder. Wondering if every single decision I make is the one that puts me on that path. On the path that only leads to her. For all I know, this decision to rescue all of you was it.”

“Oh, Kathryn,” he sighed. “What makes you believe that you have to become her at all?” 

“I can feel it happening,” she whispered. “I hear her in my head all the time. She won’t stop reminding me of who she was. Of what I’m capable of.” Her eyes fluttered closed as she contemplated everything that the Admiral had done with her future. “She destroyed you.”

“They destroyed each other. That’s what she said. They became toxic.” 

“ _She_ was toxic. She set it in motion long before that argument.”

“You don’t know that.”

“She’s me,” she insisted, trying desperately to make him understand. “I know her.” She paused for a moment, swallowing hard to force the next truth out of her mouth. “And I know what I did to you while we were out there.”

“You didn’t destroy me, Kathryn,” he returned. “I’m here. I’m fine.”

“I’m not an idiot, Chakotay. You don’t think I know how many times I hurt you?” 

“We hurt each other. Both of us.” He covered one of her hands with his, then gently flipped her hand over so he could lace their fingers together. “I’m not an idiot either,” he said lowly, his voice thick with emotion. “I know that I hurt you, too.”

“It’s not the same,” she said sadly, shifting her gaze back to the lake. 

“How? How is it not exactly the same?”

“Because I’m the reason for all of it.” 

“You cannot possibly believe that you’re somehow responsible for me hurting you, can you? Seriously, Kathryn. You don’t actually believe that?” 

She turned back towards him and saw incredulity and pity etched on his face.

“I knew how you felt,” she stated adamantly, unlacing her fingers from his. “You made it very clear. And all I said was no. I never let you know - never told you - that I felt the same way.” She stood up and walked away from him to the very edge of the lake, wrapping her arms around her waist as she watched the water lick at her shoes. “How could you even have known that you were hurting me at all?” 

“Because you didn’t say no,” he said quietly.

She whipped around to face him and saw regret written on his face. 

“You said not now,” he continued as joined her and tucked a wayward strand of hair behind her ear. “You may have never said the words, but I knew how you felt too, Kathryn. Maybe not at the end - not when I was with Seven. But for a good chunk of our time out there, I knew.”

“Chakotay -” she started, as she shook her head, but he laid a single finger on her lips to quiet her.

“I was stupid. Impatient. Too weak to keep the promise I made. I spent a lot of time doing what you’re doing right now. Trying to justify my mistakes with the rules you made for us. But when it comes down to it, I just wasn’t strong enough and I’ll live with that for the rest of my life. But you didn’t destroy me. Broke me a little, yes. But I broke you, too.” He brought his hands to her face and brushed away fresh tears with his thumbs. “And from the looks of it, I think I’ve come closer to destroying you over the last year than you ever came with me.”

“It doesn’t change anything. It doesn’t make a difference,” she insisted, as she shook her face out of his hands. “I’m still becoming her and she will gut you.”

“You can’t be sure of that. Our situation is entirely different from theirs.” His eyes were darting across her face, trying desperately to make her believe him. But she couldn’t. She knew the truth.

“I am sure,” she said, closing her eyes with a shudder. “I know what she’s like - what she’s capable of. I have to let you go before that happens. I won’t be responsible for your destruction. I won’t survive it.”

“That future isn’t inevitable, Kathryn. I know it.” His sure tone forced her eyes back to his face and she stared at him in confusion. 

“How could you possibly know that?”

“My spirit guide showed me.”

“Chakotay - ”

“Both our guides did.” 

_Both?_ “That’s how you knew,” she said as realization dawned on her. “That’s how you made the carving. You saw her in your vision quest?”

“Yes.”

“That’s possible? I thought you said that a person’s spirit guide only appears to them?”

“That’s what I thought. But my guide brought us to you in the moment you met her and your guide came back with us. They helped me understand. They helped me see the truth.” 

She stared at him for a moment, trying to puzzle out how what he had just told her could even have happened and then forced it away as irrelevant. He said he found the truth. She needed to know what he thought it was.

“What truth,” she asked quietly. 

“That us becoming toxic isn’t inevitable. That we can prevent it. Avoid their mistakes.”

She searched his eyes frantically, wanting so desperately to believe him. To be able to think that there was a way to avoid the future she dreaded with every fiber of her being. 

“How?”

“They gave up on each other, Kathryn. Shut each other out. They stopped being honest with each other and that led them to stop being honest with themselves. So when they were faced with a test, they failed. My guide reminded me of something my mother told me once a very long time ago. She said that honesty keeps love safe from the poison of deceit. Any relationship built on honesty won’t be toxic. We can avoid their fate as long as we are honest with each other.”

“That only works if you’re right,” she reminded him despondently. “If I’m right - if it was just her that was toxic - then it won’t matter. I can still become her. I can still destroy you.” 

He furrowed his brow in thought for a few seconds and then nodded his head quickly, as though he had made up his mind.

“Will you tell me two things?”

“Okay,” Kathryn replied uncertainly. 

“Don’t think about saving me or the future or any of it for a second. In your heart, do you want me to leave?”

_Honesty. He says that honesty can save us._ For the first time in a long time, the loudest voice in her head was her own. 

“No,” she forced out around a sob. 

“Would you be willing to let me try to be your friend again?”

She nodded wordlessly as she suddenly found it impossible to get words out past the lump in her throat. 

“Then compromise with me. Don’t push me away. Let me stay. Let me try to earn back your friendship. Let us be honest with each other. True to each other. And if you still feel yourself slipping away - becoming more like her - then I promise I’ll leave. I’ll get out before it’s too late.”

She fixed her gaze on his face, tracing the familiar outline of his tattoo and the angle of his cheekbones and the curves of his lips. She knew the lines of his face better than she knew her own. Finally, she found his eyes and what was in them hit her like a ton of bricks. It was her Chakotay staring back at her, eyes full of the hope and faith and love that she had seen there countless times. The angry stranger who had looked back at her so often recently was gone.

“Stay,” she managed to breathe. 

A smile started to form on his face, bringing out his dimples. 

“You want me to stay? You’ll let me try to fix this?”

“Yes,” she managed with more volume this time. “We’ll both try.”

He took a single step forward and wrapped his arms around her again. She heard him sigh above her as he felt her move towards him, threading her hands around his waist. She couldn’t explain why, but holding him felt like coming home. Fresh tears hit her scalp as he started to cry again. 

“I thought I lost you. I've missed you so much, Kathryn.”

“I've missed you, too,” she whispered back. She chose not to dwell on the fact that he might lose her still. 

The only thing she wanted right now was to remain wrapped in his arms for as long as he’d have her. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. I have decided that Kathryn made notes for her research on New Earth in a paper notebook. I decided this for 2 reasons: 1. there is a grand tradition of physically writing down observations in pencil or ink in the scientific community and I though that this might continue even into the future as it would be unaffected by anything except the worst rain (while even in the future, electronics appear to be affected by a myriad of issues) and 2. it worked for the story.  
> 2\. I believe that Kathryn is canonically wearing shoes when she is working the tomato plants in Resolutions. I liked the idea of her being barefoot and so for the purposes of my story, she was.  
> Thanks for reading :) I hope you all enjoyed this more uplifting chapter!


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long! This chapter was a real bear and my pharmacy is gearing up to start giving COVID vaccines so it's been a hell of thing recently. This chapter is a little weird, so bear with me. We are sort of transitioning into the next phase of the plot with this one (hence the introduction of my first ever 3 perspective chapter). Enjoy!

_Did you think you’d have to go through all this alone, did you think you’d long for arms around yours? I am here, beside you, behind you, steady and still… I am unwavering, ask, and it will be done. - Tyler Knott Gregson_

**July 5, 2379**

Chakotay walked down the main corridor headed for the gangway. It had taken six weeks, but they had finally finished making all of the repairs and modifications that they would need to get the _Fawkes_ underway. They had finished the last of the diagnostics and stowed the shuttles in the shuttle bay and were finally ready to take off, but Kathryn had mysteriously disappeared from engineering forty minutes ago. He had volunteered to go looking for her to tell her the good news, but thus far had been unable to find her. He had searched everywhere on the ship before realizing that she must have gone outside. As he turned the corner to head down the gangway, he stopped, resting his shoulder against the opening. 

She was on the beach. She had her knees pulled up to her chest so that her chin could rest on them and was staring out at the lake. Her black pants were covered in sand and she had slipped her boots and socks off so that she could bury her feet up to her ankles. A light breeze was blowing her hair about, as loose tendrils that had escaped the high ponytail that she had come to favor whipped around her neck and face. A look that was a strange combination of gratefulness and sadness was etched on her face. 

He watched her for a few moments, drinking in her beauty. She had always been beautiful to him, but this Kathryn, the Kathryn who was only herself and didn’t have the weight of the captaincy on her shoulders, was the most beautiful. She looked younger, softer, when she was like this - even in spite of the strain of the last year that had brought some new lines to her face and made her more angular, as she had lost the will to sleep or eat enough. He couldn’t help the pang of guilt as he reflected on how many of those lines and missed meals and sleepless nights were the direct result of his actions. 

Chakotay started down the gangway toward her, only realizing as he drew closer that she was speaking, although the wind only brought snatches of her words to him. 

“Talking to yourself, Kathryn,” he asked quietly. He was surprised that she didn’t startle at his sudden intrusion, instead just turning herself slightly to acknowledge him. 

“Just saying goodbye to the planet. It’s taken such good care of us. It seemed important to tell it how grateful we are.”

He stood in absolute shock for a moment. Even after all these years, she never stopped surprising him. Finally coming to himself, he sank down beside her in the sand. 

“You know, my people believe that the land is a living, breathing entity. That it has a spirit and a soul just like you or I. Traditionally, we would always thank the land for what it gave us, whether it was a good harvest or a mild winter or a kind spring full of just the right amount of rain -”

“Or protecting a group of fugitives while they repaired a broken-down Klingon warbird?” Her eyes glittered with mischief as she glanced at him, a smirk playing on her lips. 

“Well, maybe not traditionally,” he returned with a smile of his own. They sat in companionable silence for a few seconds, listening to the breeze and the water lapping against the beach. “I wouldn’t have thought that you would put a lot of stock in something like this,” he said finally.

“Not when you met me, maybe,” she answered honestly, after a moment. “But our time out there -” She paused, searching for a way to explain everything that was so clearly swirling in her head. 

“I saw a lot of things that challenged me. I met new people and experienced new cultures and was a part of new things that I simply can’t explain, no matter how hard I try. So, eventually, I decided that I wouldn’t. Try to explain them,” she clarified. “I started just - trying to follow my heart sometimes. So, occasionally, an idea will come to me and it won’t make sense to do it, but it will feel right, so I’ll do it anyway.”

“Like going on a vision quest with your first officer,” he volunteered quietly. 

“Yeah, like that,” she said with another grin. “Or taking Kes’s body into an energy field that should kill us both. Treating my ship like it was a person with a personality. Hiding that whole ship inside a Borg sphere to get us through the transwarp conduit. You know, things like that.” 

“Giving thanks to a planet.”

She nodded wordlessly and turned back to look at the lake. 

“It really is lovely here,” she sighed. “I think the Klingons gave up on it too easily. It would make a good colony.” 

“We could come back.” 

The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them. She whipped her head around to stare at him. 

“After we drop off everyone at Bajor and anywhere else they’re going, I mean,” he amended, shifting his eyes towards the lake and self-consciously tugging on his ear. “You know, if you and some of the rest of us don’t want to try to hide on a Federation colony world or something, we could always come back here.” 

He was rambling but he couldn’t stop himself. He hadn’t meant a group of them at all. He had meant just them. He and Kathryn, like when they’d been on New Earth. A fresh start and an opportunity to explore what they had been slowly moving towards before _Voyager_ had returned for them. But he didn’t think that she was ready to think about that or them as anything other than friends and he didn’t want to scare her. 

Chakotay was mentally kicking himself for his blunder, when he suddenly felt something against his hand where it rested on the sand. Glancing down, he saw that she had dropped one of her hands from her knees to the sand to sit beside his. Her pinky finger was extended so that it rested flush up against his own. He looked back up at her to find her staring at him.

“That sounds nice,” she said quietly and he felt his heart turn over in his chest. He moved to cover her hand fully with his own and felt her flip hers over so that her palm was up. Threading their fingers together, he sat next to her in silence as they stared out across the lake together, each caught up in thoughts too intense and too private to share with the other yet.

“Thank you for everything,” he finally heard her say quietly, her voice barely more than a whisper. “For keeping us safe and letting us stay. I don’t know if we’ll be back, but if we can, we will. Our lives changed here.” 

He squeezed her hand gently, running his thumb along hers. “ _Kwakwha, dova_. Thank you for your shelter and your gifts.” He felt her squeeze his hand in return and he turned to look at her, brown eyes finding blue ones full of questions.

“Chakotay -”

“You two coming in or what,” Tom yelled from the gangway, shattering the moment. “We’re ready to see if this bird actually flies!”

Kathryn broke their gaze and couldn’t stop herself from grinning ruefully, as she rolled her eyes. 

“We’re coming,” she yelled as she used her free hand to push herself up from the sand. She tugged gently on his hand. “You ready?”

“If you are,” he said with a smile, as he pushed himself up as well, leaning down to grab her boots for her where she had left them. 

“Well, then. Let’s see if this death trap can get us to Bajor.” 

She started pulling them towards the ship, still barefoot and her hand still in his, when she turned around to face him so quickly that he almost ran into her. 

“Don’t tell Tom that I called it a death trap,” she whispered intensely. 

“Your secret’s safe with me, Kathryn,” he returned, feeling an ear to ear grin starting on his face. 

“Good. He’d never let me hear the end of it.” Falling in beside him, they walked up the gangway together, hand in hand.

**Two Weeks Earlier - June 15, 2379**

“Four weeks.”

“Yes, sir.” 

“It’s been four. Fucking. Weeks.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And we have nothing,” Lynch roared. The other men in the room silently flinched, eyes trained on the table in front of them.

“We’ve searched their apartments. Their staff quarters. Their offices. Their parents’ homes. Interviewed their friends and coworkers and acquaintances. How can we possibly have nothing?”

“It appears Admiral Janeway must have been planning it for quite a while, sir,” Jones volunteered quietly. “And wasn’t her first fiancé a Ranger? He probably taught her how to cover her tracks.” 

“I. Don’t. Care,” he spit acidly, punctuating each word by hurling another report against the wall. “We’re the professionals here! Do you know how embarrassing it is to be outfoxed by some two-bit admiral who couldn’t even prevent her people from getting stranded on the other side of the fucking galaxy?” He crossed to the table and planted his finger in the center of it, lowering himself so that he could make eye contact with each and every one of them.

“Find me something today or don’t bother coming back. Dismissed.” 

**Two Hours Later - June 15, 2379**

“If it isn’t Lieutenant Commander Tuvok! You’re looking well. To what do I owe the good fortune of your company?” Owen Paris stepped out from around his desk to greet the stoic Vulcan. 

“It is pleasant to see you, Admiral, although I should remind you that I have retired and thus am no longer an officer of the Fleet.” Owen suppressed a smile at the incredibly Vulcan clarification. “My daughter is presenting a paper on the benefits of Vulcan meditation in other species at the Institute and I took the opportunity to accompany her.”

“Excellent. It seems that the treatment went well?”

“Exceedingly. I am told that since my condition was treated in the early stages, my recovery has been complete. I will have no residual issues.”

“That’s wonderful to hear.” Admiral Paris leaned back against his desk. The two men had known each other a long time, having served together twice - when Paris was captain of the _Wyoming_ and again at Starfleet Academy prior to his promotion to admiral and Tuvok’s return to shipboard service - and it was good to see him looking so well after his brush with madness. But that wasn’t what this visit was about.

“Perhaps we could reminisce while we walk, Admiral? My daughter is due to begin her presentation in one hour.” Tuvok looked as impassive as ever, the suggestion made as though it was merely the most practical way for them to catch up and allow him to see his daughter’s presentation. 

“That’s an excellent idea,” he agreed. “I could use the fresh air. Julia is always complaining that I don’t get enough exercise. Let me just tell Alexia where I’m headed.” 

They walked out into the anteroom to find the Admiral’s assistant on the comm.

“No, sir, but he would be free at 1400 after his quantum mechanics lecture.” She paused to listen to her ear piece, nodding silently as she did. They watched her hands fly across the console in front of her, inputting commands so quickly she almost seemed to not move at all. “Yes, sir, we’ll see you then. Thank you, Admiral.”

“Alexia, I’m going out for while. I’m going to walk Tuvok down to the Vulcan Institute. I should be back in an hour or so.”

He had to give it to her, if the strange turn of events had fazed his assistant, she didn’t let it show. 

“Very good, sir,” she replied. “Your afternoon is open until 1500 anyway. Enjoy the fresh air.”

“We will. Thanks, Alexia.”

The men were silent as they rode the lift down and stepped out into the sunlight. They crossed the commons and were headed for the sidewalk when someone ran straight into Owen. They collided hard and Tuvok reached out to steady the Admiral as he almost overbalanced.

“Hey,” he yelled after the offending body, but whoever it was had already disappeared into the crowd. 

“Hurry, Admiral. Time is of the essence,” Tuvok said quietly. Owen nodded at the Vulcan as Tuvok steered him towards Lincoln Boulevard. 

“You will be reunited with your comm badge when we reach the Institute. We should not be overheard.”

Owen glanced down at his chest nonchalantly. Just as Tuvok had said, his comm badge was missing. 

“Have you had any word from them,” the Admiral asked, forcing a smile onto his face. It would look to anyone passing by that they were simply two old friends catching up.

“Not since the first communication that they sent with Sek.”

Owen couldn’t stop the sigh of resignation that rose from deep within him. “I suppose no news is good news. Have you gathered anything about how the investigation is progressing? They are keeping me well out of it and I don’t want to put anyone else at risk by asking them to snoop around for me.”

“My sources tell me that Commander Lynch has nothing.” 

The Admiral turned to look at Tuvok as they continued down the road at a leisurely pace. 

“You know, Tuvok, if I didn’t know you better, I would say that you sounded almost proud just then,” he said with a smirk. 

“Kathryn is a formidable enemy. When he interviewed me on Vulcan, Commander Lynch did not seem to believe that it would be difficult to hunt her down. I told him otherwise and he dismissed me quite summarily. It seems that my estimation of her abilities - and those of your son - have been vindicated.”

Owen grinned at him briefly before he felt his smile slip. “Do you think that we will hear from them at all? Or will they just stay gone and we’ll just have to believe that they’re safe?”

“I find it extremely unlikely that none of them will attempt to make contact with their loved ones. Humans have an extremely strong sense of family. So much so that you will create one out of loose acquaintances, if nothing else is available. I believe that they will find a way.” 

The Admiral nodded quietly. He wanted to believe that what Tuvok said was true. But he knew that he and Tom hadn’t been on the best of terms when they had made their escape. Deep down, he truly worried that he had finally lost his son for good. 

“You seem uneasy, Admiral,” Tuvok said quietly. “Is there something bothering you?”

“Tom and I were in a difficult place in our relationship when he and Katie left,” he started uncertainly. “We had just started to mend things between us after you all made it home but then the Maquis were arrested and they took B’Elanna from him and I think that he - misunderstood - my position on Starfleet’s decision. I’m ashamed to say that I attempted to defend it, at first. Tried to justify it as important to make the proceedings clearly above board so that it didn’t look like Starfleet was just giving them all ‘get out of jail free’ cards because they happened to be stranded on the other side of the galaxy when the war broke out. But I never agreed with it and I don’t think that I made that clear enough. I think that he thought that I fully supported it and, no matter how many times I told him after, I think he thought that I was happy with the results of their trials. I think he thought that I believed that they all deserved prison and that’s the furthest thing from the truth.” 

Owen sighed deeply and ran his hand over his face. He honestly didn’t know why things always had to be so complicated between the two of them. It was like they had each been born speaking a different language and neither had managed to learn enough of the other’s to clearly communicate.

“Sorry to just unload on you like that,” he apologized as he glanced back at Tuvok. “Everyone seems to try to avoid talking about Tom as much as possible now and Julia doesn’t really seem to understand just how broken our relationship had become.” 

“Relationships between parents and children are often complex,” the Vulcan returned. “Amongst humans, I have noted that fathers and sons frequently experience relationships that are fraught with conflicts not unlike what you have just described. I also know that your capacity to love one another is great and that love often carries through even the most strained interactions. I believe that your son is likely aware of your true feelings and will come to understand them now that his family has been reunited. Your kind often do not think logically when they are under great emotional strain.” 

“Thank you, my friend. I hope that you’re right.” They fell silent for a moment, each of them lost in their own thoughts as they continued towards the Institute. 

“Now, back to business,” Owen stated, putting them back on track. They didn’t have much time. “Gretchen told me that she’s contacted approximately thirty percent of the _Voyager_ crew. Thus far, everyone that she’s talked to has volunteered their services before she can even ask.”

“Indeed. The Voyagers share a sense of family unlike any crew that I have ever seen.” 

“The plan remains unchanged?” 

Tuvok nodded. “My circle will deliver our message to contacts on as many worlds as possible. We have allies willing to provide assistance to them on 15 planets currently, and that number will likely increase as we continue to make contact.”

“And then Gretchen and I will head up the effort on the home front,” Owen continued, picking up the narrative where Tuvok had left off. “They’ve already become sort of heroes. No one has ever managed to evade Section 31 for this long and the Federation News Service is having a field day.”

“According to my contacts, the convictions of the former Maquis and their subsequent escape have caused some significant anti-Federation sentiment on many of the border worlds.”

“That’s not surprising. The Maquis were their defenders while the Federation turned a blind eye to what was happening out there. And people have long memories. It’s why I was so shocked that Starfleet made the decision to arrest them after you made it home. Pardoning them would have gone a long way towards showing the border colonies that the Federation understood what they had gone through and was vowing to do better.”

“I agree. Their decision was extremely illogical. Have you decided on a strategy?”

“We’re taking volunteers. The media is so anxious for more information that pretty much anyone even remotely tied to _Voyager_ can have their pick of interviews. Anyone willing is contacting whoever will take them and delivering a single message: the former Maquis were wrongfully imprisoned and should all be pardoned so that these heroes can return to Earth and their families. It’s heavy-handed, but we aren’t going for subtlety.” 

“It is likely that there will be retaliation,” Tuvok stated quietly. 

“Yes,” Owen agreed. “But this is about doing what’s right. That’s what Katie and Tom both said in their goodbye messages. The least we can do is stand by them.”

Tuvok nodded silently, unable to continue their conversation as they arrived at the Institute. 

“Sek,” Owen called as he spotted Tuvok’s youngest son near the entrance. The young man turned toward them, stepping away from the group he was with to meet them. 

“Admiral Paris. You are looking well,” Sek stated quietly. 

“As are you, son. It’s been a long time.”

“Where is Imogen,” Tuvok asked his son. “She should meet Admiral Paris.”

Sek looked over his shoulder, making eye contact with a young woman with striking green eyes and red hair. She smiled at him and then started making excuses to her friends as she began to extricate herself from her group. She moved with the grace of a dancer as she came toward them, coming to rest beside Sek. The woman touched his shoulder for a moment and then turned her attention fully to Owen and Tuvok. 

“Father,” she said with a small smile and a gentle lilt in her voice, as she greeted Tuvok. “And Admiral Paris, I presume.”

“Admiral Owen Paris, may I introduce my daughter-in-law, Imogen O’Dell.”

She smiled at him and extended her hand. As Owen reached out, he felt her press something hard into his palm. 

“Delighted,” he returned with a smile of his own. “Sek, I didn’t even know you were married!” 

“It’s very new,” Imogen said, blushing slightly. “We’ve only been married three weeks.” 

“Well then, congratulations are most certainly in order. May your union be long and prosperous.”

“Thank you, Admiral,” Sek returned. “Father, we should find our seats. Asil’s presentation will begin shortly.”

“Indeed. Admiral, it has been good to catch up,” Tuvok said turning toward him. 

“It has. Be well, my friend. Peace and long life to all of you.”

“Live long and prosper,” Sek and Imogen returned. “It was nice to meet you, Admiral,” she added with a smile. “Come on, love. Let’s go find some seats.” She placed a gentle hand on Sek’s arm and led him away into the Institute. 

“Until next time, Tuvok.”

“Be well, Admiral,” he replied and with a small nod of his head, he was gone. 

Owen glanced down at his hand and saw what he had suspected. Imogen had returned his comm badge when she had shaken his hand. Nonchalantly sliding his hand to his chest, he reaffixed it to his uniform as he activated it. 

“Admiral Paris to Alexia.”

“Alexia here, Admiral.”

“I would like a site to site to the office, please.”

“Certainly, Admiral. Stand by.”

Owen felt the familiar hum of dematerialization and returned to headquarters with a spring in his step. 

“Alexia, what’s on my schedule for the rest of the afternoon,” he asked as he reentered his office.

“You have your meeting with Dean Hayden in ten minutes and then the Homeworld Security subcommittee meeting at 1630. You have dinner reservations at Les Freres Heureux at 1900 and tickets to _La Traviata_ at 2100. Mrs. Paris will meet you at the restaurant and has already sent over your tux.” 

He winced as he remembered his meeting with the Dean. Hayden was an insufferable bore and while he would like nothing better than to cancel, he had already rescheduled this meeting three times. Steeling himself for the most dull hour of his life, he turned to head back into his inner office when he heard Alexia gasp behind him. 

He whipped around to face her and saw her staring at the large screen behind him. He turned just in time to see Commander Lynch’s face appear on the screen. 

“Computer, volume on wall console to forty percent,” he ordered. 

“-asking that everyone in the area remain calm. We will have power and normal operations restored as quickly as possible,” Lynch stated. 

“Commander, can you tell us the reason for the massive power failure in that section of the city,” the reporter asked.

“We received a tip about a warehouse that may have been used by some fugitives currently wanted by Starfleet. When we arrived, we discovered that it had been booby-trapped with an EMP generator that released an EM pulse large enough to knock out the power relay station to this section. We already have restoration crews in place and everything should be back to normal in the next few days.”

“Does this have anything to do with Kathryn Janeway and the Maquis Thirteen?”

“I’m afraid I’m not at liberty to discuss the details of an ongoing investigation, Marla,” he replied, but a small smile was forming in the corner of his mouth and Owen knew in that instant that they had found something to do with Tom and Katie. 

“Alexia, tell Dean Hayden that I’m going to have to reschedule and warn Julia that I probably won’t make it to dinner. I have to make an emergency trip.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The internet tells me that the phrase Chakotay uses means "Thank you, land" in Hopi, which was as close to "thank you, planet" or even "thank you, Earth" that I could get. If someone on here actually speaks Hopi and that's not what it says, please correct me in the comments!  
> PS. If I ever start a band, I'm naming it Kathryn Janeway and the Maquis Thirteen. I've decided.


End file.
